Unscripted - A Blog for Actors

Ze Maestro

When venturing to the top of a mountain taking roads few have traveled, it's crucial to have a map so you don't get lost.  That map is your strategy.  And your experienced guide, the man who will show you the way, is Mr. Michael Mastro.  I like to refer to him as "The Maestro."

He's offering "Career Strategies for the New York Actor" the weekends of 9/13 & 9/20.  Note:  This class is “NYC-specific” and assumes you have begun pursuing a career in NYC and have a basic working knowledge of picture/resumes, monologues, Backstage, etc.

Moving East. Sticky & Sweet.

So the good news is, Year of the Fish has been extended another week.  It's moving from the Angelika to Village East Cinema tomorrow (Friday) if anyone in NYC feels like catching a sweet flick.  This weekend my agent is off to Toronto to support another client of his while I will be cramming for a theater audition for two separate roles.

My interest in the play waned after I read the entire script.  It's not very good.  The idea is there, but the dialogue needs a lot of work.  So much so that I am sort of shocked that it's being produced.  But I am trying to work through my disappointment and motivate to give it my best shot regardless.  I've come to realize that it's foolish to always expect great writing.  Who the heck do I think I am?  Geesh.  I am always happy to get the chance to work on stage, even though I'll have to fly and be away for a couple months.  But let's not put the cart before the horse - or however the hoo that saying goes.

YEAR OF THE FISH

Had a very busy week last week.  No complaints.  Also attended a celebratory dinner thrown by the distribution company that bought an indie film I was in years ago.  Had a great time.  T'was a pleasant surprise.  Guess you could say I drank a little.  Have been celebrating a bit too much given it was also a holiday weekend and all.

The film that officially opened on my late father's birthday is called--

It's a Beautiful Day in My Neighborhood

It's another glorious day today.  And the city is overflowing with talent.  I forget all about the crazy miserable hag upstairs and her Ritalin deprived trolls when I hear beautiful music coming from the opera singer, a classical pianist, and that sick jazz clarinet rehearsing around the 'hood.  I sometimes forget just how much talent is in this city.  Singers, dancers, musicians, actors, artists...as you lift your head out of the muck of the herds, you remember that there's a whole other echelon of genuine talent here.  And it is simply awesome.

Last night, I had the pleasure of attending opening night of The First Breeze of Summer by Leslie Lee at the Signature Theater.  The play is very good (though could easily cut about 20 minutes).  The cast gave a grand performance, a wonderful ensemble, and Miss Yaya Dacosta (of ANTM fame, believe it or not) is on her way to stardom.  The after party got crazy with all the hoopla madness.  I wasn't even in front of the cameras, and my even retinas burned out from all the flashbulbs.   

MAKEUP!! O, whateveR.

Well today's shoot went surprisingly okay.  I guess I was prepared for mayhem given that I got my call less than 1o hours before I was expected to be there.  The bastard apologized about 20,000 times, but I didn't accept it because I had to be there so early.  So no, it's not okay.  And I'll see your dumb ass tomorrow.  I went to bed way too late and got shitty sleep thanks to the monster 18-wheeler truck that screamed up my street around 3am nearly giving me a coronary, and leaving me tossing and turning the next few hours.  I was only running 30 mins behind this morning and somehow still managed to get there on time, basically.

As soon as I memorized my scene, everything went pretty smoothly.  I was erroneously told that there were rewrites so I didn't bother memorizing anything beforehand.  While I could feel the glaring eyes boring through my skull with frustration while I kept fucking up in rehearsal...

Me-Ow.

The weather lately has been as schizophrenic as...well, as an actor.  Rainy, then sunny, then warm, then cool, then thunder showers, then tornado warnings, then clear blue skies, then whipping wind and horizontal rain, then blazing sun and humid heat.  Crazy.

My agent and I had dinner over the weekend.  Not work related.  As per usual, we fought to the death...

What's in a Name?

I seriously suck at names.  There was a time I can recall deciding that I would not be one of those people.  How hard could it be to remember someone's name?  I'd do those stupid tricks, like try to repeat the name right away so it allegedly locked into your brain.  I've tried visualizing the name and the person's face in the upper left-hand corner of my mind's eye (who the hell did I learn that nonsense from?)  None of it works.  I can't remember names of producers or casting assistants for the life of me either.  I mean, especially if you're meeting several people at once, that's like, fucking impossible. 

For me, I think it's purely the actual experience and the amount of time I spend with a person.  Sobriety is often helpful too.  If it's significant or memorable in some way and long enough time spent together actually interacting, I'll probably remember your name.  No interaction or not enough time, forget about it.  And I usually do.

Hairy Sunshine Rainy Music Acting & Writing Again

I am sitting here watching the rain pour down in sheets and listening to some guy across the street singing his heart out practicing scales.

Hair was fun.  I am not at all a fan of musicals, but I knew someone in the show and he did a great job.  I do try to make a concerted effort to understand the genre, but it just makes me cringe when it gets cheesy, which it often inevitably does.  I don't mean to offend those of you who are making a living doing musical theater.  I've just never understood it.  I've also never understood David Caruso's acting choices, bioelectromagnetics, or the theory that the passage of time has been slowly speeding up.  In any case, I am trying to stay open-minded about it.  Sort of.

No News is Good News. Good News is Great.

My Dad used to say, "What's new?"  And I'd usually say, "Oh, nothing."  And then he'd say, "No news is good news!" which I never understood.

So the good news is, despite my honest remarks to a producer about a recent job, I've been informed that I'm allegedly first choice for the role I auditioned for.  The not so good news is that the scheduled shoot has been postponed due to "the star's" scheduling conflict.  The good news is if this moves forward I'll be working on a great project with some big people.  The not so good - well not so bad - news is that I won't be getting paid.  This project is for a great cause that I believe in, so I'll be donating my services.

The good news is I've been invited to opening night of Hair tonight at the Delacorte, and the opening night party afterward.  The not so good news is we've got one spare ticket since the hubs is out-of-town and it seems I can't even give it away.  I've asked at least five people and they're either performing in a show, working, or going out-of-town.  The good news is I'm going with my agent.  The not so good news is I am trying to type this blog with wet talons...just painted my nails.

The good news is I've been feeling pretty good these days.  I was experiencing what seems to be some sort of hypoglycemia or something and it occasionally makes me feel pretty crappy and tired and shaky.  I've realized that I probably don't eat enough so I've been more conscious of eating more.  The great news is, so far I've been feeling a lot better - knock on wood - but unbelievably, I think I've actually lost a couple pounds.  My guess is the weight loss is due to either getting back into the exercising, or the increased calories have increased the metabolism.  Either way, I definitely do not need to be losing any more weight otherwise I will look like a bobble head on a stick.  So I guess I'll just have to eat more.  No problemo.

The good news is a new pilates joint just opened up two minutes from my place.  They managed to cram a bunch of reformer machines into this small studio.  I had a private session yesterday with this fantastic French chick and will probably go back for more.  But will likely sign up for group classes.  The not so good news is it ain't cheap and they've got a crazy system of signing up for class, cancellations, etc.  I get that they need to do that in order to stay in business, but the amount of reading involved regarding all their policies is obnoxious and overwhelming.

I guess really, there's no real news....which is good news?

The good news is I've not had a drink in a little over a week.  The great news is I am definitely having a couple cocktails tonight.  Woo-hoo!!!!!!!!!

--Ming Ming

Today, Yesterday, and Tomorrow

Last week I had a last minute audition for a pilot.  A comedy.  I decided to forego dressing the part and decided to dress for the weather instead.  It was friggin hot.  The producers and the chick I read with seemed pretty wiped out by the heat too, but I managed to get a couple laughs out of 'em anyway, which was a bonus.

I also had some commercial audition, which was actually tolerable since there was copy that was sort of okay.  The other chick I read with seemed nice enough.  And they were running on schedule so I was able to pop in and out quickly.

Since then I've been helping the hubs get ready for his mini-tour.  He's on the road for three weeks after kicking it off at the Nassau Coliseum last weekend.  Not sure I can recall the last time I was amidst so many teenagers in one place.  A lot of 'em were pretty freaky lookin too.  Crazy kids.

Yesterday and this morning I was up to my eyeballs in photos and glue putting together an album for my brother's birthday this week.  That was a project that took way longer than I had expected.  And I am not the most patient person in the world so getting that involved in an arts & crafts project was pretty hellish.  But I got through it and my final product looked pretty god damn sweet if you ask me.  Hope the son of the bitch appreciates it.

The hubs just took off about an hour ago.  It's just me and the dog here now.  I am hoping to take advantage of my alone time and plow through some work, maybe possibly get through the next act of the screenplay I am working on, and maybe possibly perhaps write a couple more songs for this side project I am fantasizing about recording for some time before I'm too old to want to anymore.  I've already enlisted a guitarist and a drummer, whom I have absolutely no business working with as they are both ridiculously out of my league - as well as a cousin who can sing like she could win American Idol.  She doesn't really know it yet, but she's in my band too.

Other acting stuff....I've got an indie opening this month and thought that PR company wanted me to stick around to do some sort of promo for it, but I haven't heard a peep from them in weeks.  Oh swell.  No skin off my back.

Thinking about maybe looking into acupuncture again.  I think I might be hormonally challenged.  That has nothing to do with acting.  But this is my blog and it has to do with me, so...Other non-acting content: I am looking forward to September.  We're planning a week at the beach to celebrate our anniversary.  We went last year and had so much fun, we decided we wanted to make it an annual event.  More non-acting stuff: This past weekend was the anniversary of my dad's death.  I went to visit his grave, which looks beautiful since my mom planted a ton of flowers around it and they're all in full bloom.  He was one helluva a man.  Far too young to leave us.  And I miss him so much I can hardly breathe when I think about it.

That's it for now.  Thank god it's cooled off now.  It is absolutely gorgeous outside today and that's something to be grateful for.

--Ming Ming

It's a Small World After All

My agent and I went to a set over the weekend to visit his client/my friend.  It was refreshing to see a group of actors sharing a good ole honey-wagon, a team of people working together harmoniously on a production that was actually organized, efficient, and drama-free.  Everyone we met was cool and grounded.  It was great to catch up with the punk, as well as another actor I worked with recently, and a makeup artist I worked with a couple years ago.  Small world.

I went to this audition yesterday and one of the producers asked me about one of my credits.  "How was it?"  she asked.  I said, "It was awesome."  But I guess I just couldn't disguise my feelings in my delivery so she laughed and said, "Yeah, I heard.  My friend was one of the producers." 

Ooops. 

I tried to recover with, "No, seriously.  It was great.  Great experience.  Seriously.  Great."  You probably can't tell from reading my blog, but sometimes I can come across ever-so-slightly sarcastic.  I know it's shocking.  But for some reason, I've been told more than once by people sort of close to me that they often can't tell if I am being serious or completely fucking with them.  It's a curse.  And a gift.  Depending on the situation.  I guess. 

Anyway, it's probably a good lesson to learn and one that I've been told before and apparently forgot.  When asked about any work experience, just say as genuinely as possible that "It was great" and everyone you worked with was "great." 

"Great" is not as extreme as "Awesome," yet better than just "Good."  Say it quickly.  Say it smoothly.  No pauses or hesitations or beats.  Smile as warmly as you can and nod your head twice.  If need be, LIE.  It's good business.  Sorry, but the truth is, honesty is not always the best policy.  You never know who knows whom, and it really is a small world.  Probably a good idea not to offend anyone if you'd like to work again.  Remember:  Other people might be just as sensitive and egotistical as we are.

Let's see...what else, what else....I don't know.  Hubs is gearing up for a short tour.  He played the Nassau Coliseum over the weekend where I was amongst a bunch of freaky teenagers with huge holes in their earlobes baring lots of skin.  That was shitloads of fun.  I've had musicians coming in and out of my home, recording, sleeping over, eating all my food and drinking all my booze.  It's been too hot for me to go jogging, so I've got to get back on that again.  I'm trying to steal away some one-on-one QT before he hits the road and hopefully, dare I say, finish my screenplay while he's gone.

--Ming Ming

Whaddo I Know?

I just don't know.

Sometimes that's all I can think of when I sit down to write a blog.  What else is there to say?  Freestyle.... 

I've always heard it was so difficult to be an actor so I've always had the belief that it is so difficult to be an actor.  But now, especially more recently, I can't help but wonder if it's really very easy and simpler than it seems.  And we make it far more complicated than it actually is.  Maybe it's just a matter of perspective.

One of my cousins from the left coast came for a brief visit to NYC.  She lived here before.  She gave the city a shot for about a year before she moved back west last winter.  Personally, I think it takes a year just to find a satisfactory place to live and a job you don't hate.  But whatever.  It's not for everyone.  Anyway, the girl can sing.  For reals.  She happened to come over to our digs while my husband was laying down some tracks with his guitarist, so she ended up laying down some vocals.  It's cool how things just work out that way.  In my humble opinion, with some real focus and commitment, she could have a career if she really wanted it.

Of course there's no guarantee in show business.  But it also depends on what you want.  My husband's sister seems to think we both strive for fame, which is, well, completely retarded.  Her idea of being creative is gluing a seashell to a candle and drawing a smiley face on a cake with store bought icing you squeeze from a tube.  In other words, she doesn't really get or respect why we're doing what we do.

Not many people are blessed with a talent.  Being an actor, and my husband a musician, we've met and known a few people who have a real gift, who for one reason or another, decided to go down a different path.  Of course it's not for any one of us to say what anyone else ought to do with their lives, but it kills me when it seems as though the only reason they don't at least give it a shot is because of fear or lack of confidence.  If God gave you a gift, you should use it. 

I've got another cousin who is a ridiculously gifted writer.  It's her passion.  She loves to write.  But she's been brainwashed into believing that life is only worth living if you work for a company, find the man of your dreams, make babies, and drive a sports utility vehicle.

I've got a friend who comes over about once every other week because it's his only opportunity to play music and feel somewhat creative.  I used to love hanging out with him because he used to be so vibrant and positive and optimistic and a lover of life.  Now I dread the day he comes over because I have to sit here and listen to him whine and complain endlessly about how numb and frustrated he feels, how draining his work is, how isolated he feels in the city, and how he so desperately wants to play music again, as if someone is holding him prisoner preventing him from doing so.  "So fucking do it then," I say.  But he ignores me as he morosely plucks away at the guitar wallowing in his self-ascribed misery playing the same song over and over and over again while I silently scream in my head, "Go home or buy me some beer!"

I've got another friend who is actually pretty hilarious, but every single time I see him, he's either sick or completely exhausted, and he absolutely hates his job.  He's a fantastic painter, but has no time to paint because his job is so demanding, it takes up most almost all of his waking life.  He also hates living in the city and loves nature.  I don't get it.  Quit your job and move out of the city.  Who exactly is forcing you to do what you're doing that you hate so much?

Okay, I know it's much easier said than done, but seriously.  If you feel creatively paralyzed or you feel like you're suffocating, it is within your power to change that.  What exactly is preventing you from doing so?  How much longer are you willing to suffer?  Or are you really suffering?  Maybe you just need to incorporate some time into your schedule to practice your art and that will be enough to satisfy your soul.  Or if that's just not enough, maybe you need to let go of some fears and change your job to allow yourself to live your life.  If you're breaking your back trying to make those car payments and you're miserable, then maybe it's time to figure out how much joy is that car really giving you?  Could you be happier driving a cheaper used vehicle, not having to make those car payments, working less, or working a different job, and having the freedom to do your art?  Sometimes it seems as though we are addicted to feeling inadequate and unsatisfied when in fact, life's actually not bad.  Not bad at all.  And if you still insist that it is, THEN DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT FOR CHRIST SAKE!!!

I've seen and met so many talentless schmoes and THEY are the ones who should be caving into doubts and fears and choosing different paths.  Yet they are out there and they persist, while the genuinely talented ones I know hide behind jobs they don't like and starve themselves creatively so they can convince everyone else around them that they are doing "just great."  I don't get it.  What I do get is that it really boils down to you.  This is your life. 

I know a girl who sings like a sexier Norah Jones.  She's absolutely phenomenal and I remember the first time I heard her sing, I couldn't even speak.  She had a record deal, and got thrown into the machine, but ended up deciding that's not the route she wanted to take.  Today, she lives in the Midwest and she sings in a bluegrass band at pizza festivals and coffee houses.  She has some other job to support her simple life and her kid.  She's still immersed in making music, and will be for a long, long time.  And her music still leaves me utterly speechless.  Her life sounds pretty awesome if you ask me.

For everyone else seeking out more than pizza festivals and coffee houses...Look, if you don't think you have "it," then no one else will.  Period.  Just look at how many terrible actors and singers are making a living acting and singing.  Most of them are doing it because they believed they could.  And so they are.  Imagine if you actually had a real gift, true talent, AND the confidence behind it.  Imagine making a living doing what you love.  Doing something that comes almost incredibly easy to you.  It almost doesn't feel right.  To have so much and suffer so little.  What if that's just the way "it" works?

Maybe those super gifted people, their talent just comes too easily to them so it's not something they're interested in pursuing.  There's no challenge.  Or maybe they're just brainwashed with fear.  Or maybe it's just not the path they're meant to take.  Or maybe they just need a good swift kick in the ass.

I don't know.

I just don't know.

--Ming Ming

Back in the Wack

The Wackness.  Go see it.  Josh Peck is fantastic.  Great work.  These cats I see sprouting up all over indies and making their way up into the major leagues...they're young kids.  And SO talented.  Keep your eyes out.  It's incredibly refreshing and exciting to know that our youths don't aspire to be vapid and cheesy.  They're surprisingly centered, solid, smart, have their own voice, and seem to respect their craft more than their egos.

Sir Ben, by the way, is blowing up - again.  What a wonderful actor and class act he is.  If nothing else, check out The Wackness to see Big Ben pull some tubes.  Pretty hilarious.

In contrast...I caught Mary-Kate Olsen on Letterman a couple weeks ago and from her interview, and the way she was promoting the film, I was expecting her role to be larger than it was.  And I may be mistaken, but I don't recall her even mentioning Josh Peck or Olivia Thirlby, which is pretty retarded if you ask me.  But no one did ask me.  So moving on...

I went out last night to this show.  Live music, not theater.  I actually wasn't planning on it, but a friend was dying to go and had an extra ticket.  Unbelievably, in this venue among many hundreds of peoples, I actually ran into two people I know.  Knew.  One person was from my post-college days.  What a freak job that kid was.  It's too long of a story to get into here, but let's just call him Stalker Steve for now.  It took me a while before I confirmed that it was in fact Stalker Steve.  And I opted to not say hello and my friend and I moved our way through the crowd and parked ourselves in another spot.  The other person I honestly don't remember.  But she apparently remembered me.  She was from my just-moved-to-the-Glitty-doin-shitty-theater years.  It was so random and strange to see these two people from my past at this show I accidentally attended.  What are the odds?

I know it's not nearly as mind blowing as it sounds.  But when Dee Hi Dration woke me up this morning at 5am after a long night of boozing, I stood at the sink pouring water down the front of myself hoping a few drops of H20 would make it into my cotton mouth, and I thought of those two people.  And I thought to myself A) That seems like a long ass time ago.  Fuck.  You must be gettin old.  And B) Damn, bitch.  You've come a long way.

I try hard to keep my eyes focused forward and not waste too much time looking back.  My guess is maybe many of us forget to take a moment to glance back and see how far we've come.  And not only that, but to actually appreciate it for one second.  I didn't have any connections.  I didn't have a trust fund.  I didn't have anyone here to hold my hand, help me out, or hook me up.  I didn't start in this business when I was young kid.  I wasn't a theater major in college.  And I didn't get an MFA.  I know this feeling won't last, but it almost made my hangover not as hellish. 

Obviously there is still so much more I want to accomplish as an actor.  And that will probably never change.  But those brief moments of appreciation are good while they  last.

--Ming Ming

Ass-Face

It feels counterintuitive to pass on an audition whilst our economy continues to spiral downward, and future income sits before me like a cross-dressing diva named Pat singing the blues and twirling her hair.  Is she nervous?  Is she flirtatious?  Is she high on coke?  Or high on life?  Is it a she?  Is it a he?  Is it a he-she?  Who knows?  My future income continues to remain a mystery even Angela Lansbury and Columbo couldn't solve, even if they got together one Monday night at 10pm Eastern Standard Time with David Caruso and his forensics team in Miami.

I passed on a commercial audition today.  Despite the fact that I told myself I'd keep going out for nationals, I just couldn't do it.  It could have been a bad decision, but it felt so good just saying no.  Probably not as good as it would feel to accumulate a pile of cash, but definitely better than wasting a few hours of my life for nothing but annoyance, frustration, and despair.

So a friend of mine is in town shooting yet another movie.  I swear I cannot keep track of his career anymore.  He's been working consistently since I met him in 2006.  He's a few years younger than me, but I like talking shit with him, and I sometimes actually learn something, which of course I would never in a million years ever admit to the punk.  He invited me to the set this weekend and is working with an actor I recently worked with, so it'll be a good opportunity for us to exchange some war stories and gossip now that our film is in post.

My body is slowly adjusting to the exercising I've actually motivated myself to do, like taking the stairs instead of the elevator, carrying my groceries instead of rolling them in a cart, walking the dog instead of making the hubs take her out all the time, flexing my bicep as I lift the bottle to my mouth...you know.  Baby steps.  Actually, jogging in this humidity is sort of hellish.  I think I've lost ten pounds in sweat, which has to be counterproductive because what is the point of toning up your ass if it means you have to dehydrate your skin so much your face looks like a wrinkled prune?  It's like one of my worst nightmares.  You know those women.  You're standing on line somewhere behind some long-haired high-heeled hottie, and then when she turns around, it hits you like a ton of Botox, "Good Gawd, Woman!"  She's like 80 and no amount of hair dye, cut bangs, or sun damaged cleavage can disguise the fact that she's got more wrinkles than an anorexic Shar Pei.  Yikes.  I mean, is it fun for them?  Do they do it for laughs?  To just scare people like that?  Whatever happened to aging gracefully?  It ain't right. 

Anyhow....I better slap on some more face cream and get back to my screenplay.  I am up to a whopping ten pages so far, and I'm actually almost loving it....for now.

--Ming Ming

Meat Fest 2008

I went to a Meat Fest over the weekend.  It wasn't a sausage party at some sports bar on the UES.  Nor was it a cheesy club in the meat packing district.  It wasn't anything illegal.  Or sexy.  It was massive amounts of pork, beef, lamb, and chicken, grilled, roasted, and smoked with a few kegs of beer on a small private beach.  It was Meat Fest 2008.

I expected it to be a lot like the Beef N Beer - another annual event involving large quantities of meat on the beautiful shores of New Jersey, where people gather for unlimited supplies of, yes, you guessed it, beef.  And beer.  But, no.  This was a whole other ballgame.

What is it with dudes, outdoor cooking, pyrotechnics, and meat?  My husband spent an hour and a half one summer digging a hole in my mom's yard to fill with rocks and coal and cooked steak on a stick even though we had a perfectly good grill on the deck, not to mention a fully operational kitchen inside the house.  I guess it must satisfy some primordial need that dates back to the days of cavemen going out into the wild to hunt for food, cooking the beast over an open flame, and stuffing their face until they're about to explode in order to survive until the next kill.  Today that's apparently evolved into setting up a smoking tent at 1:00AM the night before to smoke racks of lamb, ribs, and brisket next to a 50 pound pig on a spit in addition to the traditional, BBQ chicken, steaks, burgers, and dogs.  Eee gads.

While I admit, the food was pretty darn tasty, it was sort of disturbing to watch one of the guys, whom I christened the Mayor of Meat, posing and dancing around with the decapitated pig's head for some other beer bellied dude who was filming the entire event.  Where the hell am I?  Thank god for the live music and the sweet sound system.  I actually had a great time dancing around barefoot in the sand by the water looking up at the moon like a vegetarian hippy gone deliriously wild from consuming meat, meat, and yet, even more, meats.  I found the entire scene extremely amusing and oddly wonderful.

This of course has absolutely nothing to do with acting.  Except for the fact that I found hanging out with a bunch of strangers eating meat more enjoyable than I did talking to my "actor" friends the week before.  I am so tired of feeling like I have to edit what I say in fear of making them feel badly about themselves.  I never bring up the subject of acting, or volunteer information pertaining to my career.  But when they ask me questions, I just answer as simply and as honestly as I can.  Inevitably, I end up finding myself delicately fielding some question or comment like a politician at a press conference, which reminds me once again that some people, even "friends," only want to hear what they want to hear.  And not everyone is capable of separating their feelings about themselves from their feelings about you.  I suppose that's human nature.

I thought all that editing was over with.  I've spent years editing myself addressing questions and comments from family and friends trying to make them understand why I was working two waitressing jobs when I had two degrees.  Why acting in Podunk Theater X was actually worthwhile even though we could barely sell any tickets.  Why I was investing my hard earned thousands of dollars in headshots and classes while sleeping on a friend's couch for six months.  Or why I absolutely believed in what I was doing - even when I didn't.

It should feel redemptive, but it seems ironic and sort of sad that now a lot of those people seem far more excited and interested in what I do, while my "actor" friends don't really want to hear it.  So why still ask questions?  It's clear that whether I'm telling them about an audition, sharing stories from a job, or venting frustrations about wanting more, no matter how much I edit, I am left feeling as though I've inadvertently said something that made them feel badly about themselves.  It just seems easier to avoid the topic all together.

So the take away I wanted to share is:  Regardless of where you are in your career - community theater to Broadway, commercials to primetime television, corporate industrials to major motion pictures, represented or not, don't ever apologize for where you are now or where you want to go, and definitely not for where you've been.  And if you're honest with a sincere dose of humility, stop editing yourself.  Be proud of your work.  And if anyone else, especially your "friends," feel badly about themselves because of it, then really, it's their problem.  If they can't deal with it, then they shouldn't want to hang out with you or ask you questions.

I do feel fortunate to have made some new friends.  And while I have felt a little discouraged to nurture those relationships since some of them are actors too, maybe they won't be as lame because they're actually happy about what they're doing.

Feast on that.

--Ming Ming

"I Personally Believe..."

Activity for me has slowed a bit in the TV/Film world as of late.  I do have an indie film opening in NYC to be released in five other US cities, another is being released on DVD this month (though my role was very small), and one studio flick coming out in theaters near you some time next year.  It all looks great on paper, but I can tell you that today I am bored and legit auditions have slowed to a trickle.  Of course I realize the reasons: the AFTRA screwing SAG over sitch, the time of year, the economy, the nature of the beast, blah, blah, blah.

In an effort to ride it out, I've focused my energies on cleaning house, getting back into my workout routine, reconnecting with friends, and believe it or not, writing.  It's really easy to fall into that pit of hopeless ambiguity and feelings of uselessness as an actor or even self-doubt in between gigs.  To echo Tom's previous posts, sometimes it feels like I am a professional waster of time.  (I am also a wiz at shopping online, blowing money on useless items, ordering and eating take-out Vietnamese, drinking, and any activity that takes place in bed.)  But "I personally believe" - every time I say those words I can't get Miss South Carolina out of my head - it's really a matter of perspective.

Why beat yourself up about it?  Don't resist.  If you feel like being a lazy ass, then be a lazy ass.  It's the quickest way to snap out of it once you're there.  You'll surprise yourself at how easily you'll rediscover your motivation and drive again if you just let yourself.  "I personally believe" constantly berating and nagging yourself really just comes out of fear.  Relax.  Chill out, holmes. 

You might be saying, "That's easy for you to say.  I'm still trying to figure out how to get representation."  And you're right.  It is easier for me to say that, but believe me, I worked my ass off and then some to get here.  And when you get representation, you'll still be feeling frustrated and pooping all over yourself for something else.  And when you're booking work, you'll be frustrated that you're not booking better work.  And when you win your Oscar, you'll be freaking out trying to maintain your reputation and keep working.

I do realize pooping all over yourself on vacation somewhere off the Italian coast sipping Cristal with an Oscar collecting dust in your bathroom while Jeeves is changing the Egyptian 5,000 thread count sheets on your King size bed and sprinkling your walkways with orchids is probably less stressful than working a couple jobs to pay rent in a studio apartment that you're sharing with some guy named Cory whose socks stink up the joint with little to no time to even audition, let alone land an agent who can get you those auditions.  But the point is:  Will beating yourself up feeling all sorry for yourself be at all helpful whatsoever?  Will feeling crappy suddenly turn things around like magic?  Absolutely not.

If you're focused, working on your craft, and keeping your head above water, all you can do is find a way to enjoy your daily existence and the tides will turn in your favor.  If that seems like just a load of bullcrap and you find yourself feeling negative more days than not, then it might be time to re-evaluate your goals or take a break from acting.

No one ever said this would be easy.  So don't make it harder.

And if none of this applies to you, Word.

--Ming Ming

This is The Answer

Next time you find yourself feeling frustrated, paralyzed by perfectionism, easily upset, overwhelmed, or down in the dumps, I have the answer to cure your funk.  Rather than beating yourself up for being lazy, stupid, or talentless, the reason you feel this way might possibly be because you are.....GIFTED.  Call it denial.  Call it delusional.  Call it whatever you want.  If it helps you move through your funk and break on through to the other side, then believe what you will.  I came to this realization while Googling looney bins for my next weekend get away.  But why strap myself into a straitjacket and get hopped up on pharmies?  Wouldn't it be way more fun to celebrate your gifted splendor than to eat, drink, smoke, spend, and/or screw your way right back where you started?  Life is all about perspective anyway.  So my perspective is....I AM GENIUS, hear me roar.  ROOOOOOOWWWWRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's another thing my 2-year-old nephew does.  He spontaneously lets out a roar from the depths of his bowels for no apparently logical reason.  So I tried it.  Like when I feel myself about to engage in an argument with the hubs, rather than making a smart ass remark that will inevitably launch us into a fight, I just let loose a loud tiger roar from the depths of my bowels.  And boy, it feels kinda good.  And don't hold back.  Just let her rip.  If nothing else, the look on that other person's face is priceless and just one more moment of fun to file away in the old memory banks.  And yes, I do realize acting like a 2-year-old is so immature, yet.....GENIUS!!!!!!!!!

We are a different breed of stupid - or gifted - depends on how you look at it.  We're generally overly sensitive, sympathetic, empathetic.  We excel at many different things (acting, writing, singing, dancing, balancing, bullshitting, conning, etc.).  We need constant attention or interaction with others.  We have little to no patience.  We easily follow direction, are quick studies, and are easily able to think on our feet.  We get bored easily, but if we find something interesting, we can go for hours and hours with undisrupted concentration and focus.  These are all characteristics of the gifted.

So next time you find yourself or someone else making you feel less than magnificent, just look yourself and that someone squarely in the eye, shake your head slowly, sigh, and then tell them, "It's a curse to be gifted." 

Then roar like a tiger.

--Ming Ming

Fireworks from Hell

Happy 4th of July!

I got my fill of fireworks in last weekend at this dinky town fair out in Jersey.  It was really odd because it looked as if they spent at least a million bucks on the fireworks at this tiny local event.  It was surprisingly spectacular.  Tonight, we thought we'd be heading over to the river to check out the Macy's show, but I think I may be too tired to take on the crowds and the rain, and opt to celebrate at home instead.  Plus, I am anticipating battling traffic as we venture out-of-town for the rest of the weekend.  One battle per week is more than enough for me.

We're in the midst of planning a kitchen renovation, which has definitely been a learning process.  And time consuming.  Especially when you don't have any contractor, designer, or electrical technician friends who can give you guidance or advice pertaining to a Manhattan apartment kitchen.  And even more especially when you're trying to do it on a budget.  Just one unforeseen problem like water damage, electrical issues, moving pipes, or rotting floors can jack up your cost by many, many thousands.  It brings my awareness back to the reality that our career choice doesn't offer us the luxury of guessing how much income will be coming in the future.  When's the next job?  Will there be a strike?  Will that commercial get to air?  Will the movie be a hit or a dud?  Figuring how far over budget we can handle becomes a mystery and just a big pain in the ass. 

There is that tricky balance of maintaining optimism pursuing our dreams despite the reality of uncertainty that comes with our business.  It's an ongoing conundrum I suppose.  It's easy to let financial responsibility put a damper on your ambition and snuff out the fire of your dreams.  It's a fine line to walk between enjoying the quality of your life and forging ahead to pursue an acting career that promises nothing and guarantees less.  Yet, as Nicole pointed out, it's like a "high-class problem."  I realize that stressing over remodeling a kitchen in your co-op while maintaining an acting career is really not a bad problem to have.

I guess one way to look at it might be that really, no one can ever be totally certain of future income, particularly in today's economy where I am sure more than a few 9-5ers have to be concerned about being laid off.  Or all those poor people who lost their life savings with companies going bankrupt, like the downfall of Enron.  It's wise to keep an eye on the bigger picture and plan ahead, but at the same time, you've got to keep forging ahead, do what you can, spend wisely, enjoy life, and hope for the best.

Well one thing is certain.  If you're like me and you come from a family who thinks you are completely insane and stupid for not choosing security over your life's work, do not discuss renovation plans with them under any circumstances, or anything that involves money whatsoever (your own damn money no less).  Or be prepared to get into some fireworks that aren't so pretty to look at or all that fun to experience.  Although, finding yourself actually saying the phrase, "Yes, Mom.  I am the child of the Devil" is sort of hilarious.

Cheers.

--Ming Ming

Yo Ho! Yo Ho! The Pirate's Life's For Me! King of the Sea!!!

My 2-year-old nephew would sing that at the top of his lungs spontaneously for no apparent reason.  I don't really know what it means.  But I've now adopted this strange turrets.  And somehow it's rather effective at snapping me out of a daze or uplifting my mood.  I highly recommend it.  But you have to close one eye like a pirate and pump your arms when you sing it.

I know it hasn't been that long.  But it feels like an eternity.  These big gaping holes between jobs sucks balls.  I could very well have forgotten how to act all together.  Studio work, coaches, rehearsals, it all seems like a distant foggy memory.  Maybe it's a good thing to have forgotten.  Sort of like how it's good to forget your dialect work so you can just throw it away and do it without thinking so you're not focused on the shape of your mouth and the pronunciation of certain vowels, but just being in the moment.

Yes, I am babbling.

I had a callback for a commercial.  And that other TV thing I auditioned for...I was informed the other day that my tape was sent to LA.  Still too early to indicate much.  Except that maybe I sort of still know how to act.  Maybe.  Sometimes I think it's really more about just not giving a shit anymore.

While at the commercial callback, I did my best to ignore all the cheesy banter going around the waiting room.

Cheesy Girl:  Does my makeup look okay?

Cheesy Guy:  Uh, yeah.

Cheesy Girl:  I know it sounds crazy, but makeup is really complicated on camera.  If I do it one way, I can look, like, totally nerdy.  But if I do it another way, I can look really sexy.  It's, like, so totally different. 

Cheesy Guy:  Um...you look fine to me. 

Cheesy Girl:  Really?

Cheesy Guy:  Really.

Me:  REALLY, somebody shoot me now please.

Then I got paired up with my partner.  I was surprised they paired me up with the guy 'cause we were definitely an odd couple.  He was so cheerful and sweet.   Then the poor dude was sent home before he even got a chance.  Apparently, they called him back accidentally.  Wtf?  His smile drooped almost imperceptibly, but you could tell he was just crushed.  I am really warming up to this casting director more and more every minute.  Idiot.

My next partner actually seemed like a very cool guy.  Very easy going.  Relaxed.  Wasn't trying to shove an impression upon me or anyone who may have been glancing in his direction.  He wasn't trying to be all witty and funny or annoyingly interrogating me.  He wasn't trying to BE anything.  Just a genuinely nice dude.  And genuinely funny.  We were kept waiting for longer than I would have expected, so we had ample time to run our silly lines and he was solid. 

Unfortunately, in the room with the clients in front of the camera with a very high strung idiot casting director, I could sense his nerves getting the best of him.  He tried to execute the copy the way we ran it, but he was tense and unnatural because he was trying so hard not to be tense and unnatural.  The director made more than a couple terse adjustments and comments, but he just couldn't nail it.  I felt bad for the guy.  He was totally relaxed when we ran it and had great delivery and personality.  But I know that feeling.  And honestly, I think it just takes experience and practice.

Anyone out there who's trying to break into commercial work or on-camera work in general, I strongly advise you once again to enroll in an on-camera class, even if everyone else in the class sucks and annoys you to no end.  And an audition class, preferably with someone you find intimidating.  The more you can put yourself in the uncomfortable position of a realistic audition situation, in front of a group of people, on-camera, with only a couple minutes to present your best take, the better you will get at combating those nerves and showing that you really can act.  Auditioning is definitely an art form in and of itself.  And one that you've got to master sooner or later if you want to do this for a living.

Although, aside from the loot, you're not missing out on much on the commercial front.  I know I'm a wise-ass sour puss, but I literally had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing when the director furrowed his brow, took a long pause, then gave us the direction to "find our life's passion from the deepest part of our soul."  We're selling useless kitchen products, douche.  We're not making a movie here.  I have got to start bringing in a hidden camera and record this shit.  It's like right out of Waiting for Guffman or something.  HilARious.

--Ming Ming

Negative Nancy is Debbie Downer's Lesbian Lover

I am wracking my brain trying to think of something helpful, useful, or educational, some pearl of wisdom or practical advice to bestow upon a hopeful new actor that I haven't already blogged about before.  But I think Stacey hit that one on the head in her last post.  In a nutshell, get a job.  Read the trades.  Get in class.  Toughen up your skin.  Invest in your headshot.  And suffer along with the rest of us or get out.

I will also add the caveat to not get swept away by hoopla.  Don't let your desperation cloud your sound judgment and good instincts.  Just like anything else, while it's useful to have solid associations to big reputable names of coaches, classes, gigs, what have you, I can tell you from personal experience that none of that will help you if you don't have the goods to back up what's on paper. 

In fact, particularly if your goals lie in TV or film, nobody is going to give you a job over someone else because of what's on your resume.  It will be based on your audition and your look.  I realize the problem often lies in getting those auditions in the first place.  Again, your acting talent, abilities, and most of all your confidence along with putting yourself out there as much as possible will get you there.  Make decisions not out of desperation, but intelligence.  And if you don't know, then ask someone else who does.

Other personal acting updates...another commercial audition.  The commercial agent left me a message saying they were given the copy for the spot in advance.  When I called back to ask for it, she screamed, "Why?"  I screamed, "Because I want to see it!"  She accused me of being a Negative Nancy because I wanted to make sure this wasn't going to be a total waste of my time before I confirmed the appointment.  Whatevs.  I been doing this for long enough to know that unless there's at least some acting involved, I will only leave there completely demoralized.  I told her either I become more selective or I quit commercials all together.  She put me on the phone with her higher up who convinced me that she was on it and not to worry.  I'm not worried.  I'm tired.  Geesh.

On the legit front...I think I spent more time doing my hair than I did on the lines, but it went pretty all right.  I felt I did my best and that's all I can do.  It was only two scenes anyway.  And pretty straight forward.  Sometimes in the past I've worked the material to death and it loses a little spontaneity because I'm more likely to go on autopilot.  I think leaving it alone for a bit was actually really helpful.  Once again, I too need to remind myself not to act out of desperation and have the confidence and trust that I will do what I need to be prepared.

On the rest of me...trying to get back into exercise...again.  I am determined to do it on my own and not have to hire a trainer or join a gym to get my flabby flat ass back into shape.  However, I've been thinking about doing a private yoga session just to get a kickstart and get that ball rolling.  I used to practice it intensely and I really miss it.  I know it's time to get back in because I've found myself saying more than once, "I think I need to be drugged."  The only pills I pop are multi-vitamins and I sometimes wonder what life feels like for people on anti-anxiety medication.  Is it just smooth sailing for those guys 24/7?  If I lunch on the yoga, maybe I'll just stick to my own self-medicating good ole fashioned boozing and shopping.  Or maybe I just need to remind myself that this is Life.  Deal with it.

Anyhow, I read an article the other day about how indie bands are feeling the pain at the pump and fewer bands are able to go on the road because they just can't afford to anymore.  That's really shitty.  We need indie artists to keep being creative and producing their art so we aren't left with mainstream media feeding us their prepackaged garbage as our only option for consumption.  Please go out and support your local music, your local theater, your local farmer, your local barber, your local mom & pop shop...or be prepared for every corner of America to be taken up by stripmalls where our only choices are Starbucks, Staples, Bank of America, and Bed Bath & Beyond. 

Between rising gas prices and digital media, global warming, and pharmaceutical drugs, it's hard not to feel like the only thing to look forward to these days is that alleged economic stimulus package so I can fill up the gas tank to get to the drugstore to pick up a prescription of Zanex and wash it down with a plastic bottle of water while I listen to my iPod and check my e-mail on my laptop at the beach where I'll get severe sunburn and possibly poisoned when I go for a swim in the polluted ocean.

Have a great day!

--Ming Ming

Saving Lives. One Bad Commercial At a Time.

So since last I blogged, I was called for two commercial auditions.  One I passed on.  The other I decided might be worth a shot.  It was for a "home improvement" store, which seemed almost kismet since I've been spending so much time there lately.  Despite my efforts to go in with a positive attitude...unfortunately, I am apparently way too judgmental for my own good.  When I got there and saw the copy, yet again, I basically decided that it was retarded and sexist and I just could not quell the wise guy part of myself enough to just do the stupid audition without being an ass.

It was basically a bunch of chicks getting together for a "girls night out" at one of their girlfriend's apartments to help her paint her walls a color she picked out to match a pair of her favorite heels.  Yup.  The paint matches her shoes.  And that's just what me and my girlfriends love to do when we go out for a fun night.  In fact, this past Friday night I went crazy and reupholstered my couch to match my favorite panties.  And the weekend before that, I decided to really party like an animal and I stitched a quilt out of all my old Vera Wang cocktail dresses while watching reruns of Sex and the City.  Some of the patterns even coordinate with my maxi-pad throw pillows.

Anyhow, I wanted to leave, but then the trip would have been a total waste.  And I'm not a complete dummy.  I know how much loot these gigs can generate.  So I went in there to do what I know how to do.  Unfortunately, the menopausal She-Devil that was running the session must've picked up on my sarcastic optimism because she scolded me like a delinquent 5-year-old for messing with the props. 

Well excuse em moi, but if you put props in front of an actor, we're gonna use 'em.  Otherwise, don't have them there in front of me if you don't want me to touch them especially if you're going to call us into the room and then keep us waiting there for 10 minutes without any instruction or information.  I eventually heeded to her cold curt demands and she was clearly irritated that I did so without apology.  Whatevs.  Lighten up.  It's a 30 second spot for paint and nails and you ain't no Scorsese, lady.  I suggested that they have us tattoo our barcodes onto the backs of our necks so they can just scan us with a laser when we walk in.  But she didn't find that suggestion at all useful or amusing whatsoever either.  Anyway, fingers crossed that I book the gig!  (Don't worry.  I'm not holding my breath.)

This week I've got a legit audition for a recurring possible series regular for a show that my husband digs.  It's too early to get excited about it.  In fact, I'm actually not too worried about it because it shoots in LA in July (same time that lame-O waitress role for that indie would have shot ironically) and I wouldn't be surprised if I "subconsciously" blow it.  Just between you and me, I hate flying.  I have flown at least a thousand times in my lifetime ever since I was a tot.  But I really have grown to detest it.  I can't tell if it's the being trapped in a small space, or the being over 30,000 feet above ground, or the control thing, or what, but I'd rather get a root canal and two pap smears than fly in a plane.  Just thinking about flying freaks me out.  But I realize this would be a very nice gig.  And I will work on the material as best as I can and give it my all regardless.  Like I said, it's way too early to even seriously consider anyway.  But I am planning on matching my shoes to my underwear for my audition and then coming home and painting my kitchen walls the exact same color.

--Ming Ming

Living the Dream...

GOOD LORD.  My dog is lying by my feet and the bitch just farted something nasty.  The stink has hit me like a brick wall.  My eyes are watering and I think I am feeling slightly dizzy.  Good God.  What the hell have we been feeding you??  PU.

So the other day I was offered a part in an indie film that I never auditioned for.  I thought to myself, "Well, isn't that nice."  I've been in that casting office before, and I worked with that director a couple years ago, and my agent knows one of the producers.  But I thought to myself, "Am I hot shit now or what?"

Um...Apparently NOT.  It's to play a fucking waitress.  No offense to waitresses.  I used to wait tables for years.  I am awesome at it even though I've been fired a bunch.  And I could play it with a realism like no other.  I thought, "Well certainly it must be a very deep, interesting, mysterious waitress of infinite wisdom who holds the key to the meaning of life or some shit."  Yeah, no.  I think she has one line.  Maybe two.  And it's nothing deeper than, "The bathroom's over there," or something equally lame.

Then I thought, "But surely, there is no way this director would offer me such a small role after the role I played in the film we worked on together."  That saying even popped into my fat head, "THERE ARE NO SMALL ROLES.  ONLY SMALL ACTORS."  Maybe this waitress calls for a very specific comedic character or something.  Maybe it'll be fun.  Maybe I'll meet some cool people.  Maybe there won't be anything going on this summer anyway because of the possible strike.  Maybe there is some higher cosmic fruity granola type reason I should do this.  Maybe-- Yeah, no.

My agent looked at the script and said, "You're not doing this."  Phew.  Fine by me.

Then I got a text.  The director couldn't understand why I passed on his film.  Implied that perhaps I'm too "big" now to take a small role, which is SO not true.  I texted him back.  Told him there was no way I was going to take someone's order for two days unless-- (made some ridiculous demands, etc.).  For about 0.1 seconds after I hit send I thought, "Uh-oh.  I might be burning some bridge or--"  Yeah, no.

The truth is I never saw the script (tho I heard it was quite good) and he didn't give me a single reason as to why he specifically wanted me to do it, which means he simply doesn't want to have to work with someone green who'll waste their time.  Boo-hoo.  I honestly hate to turn down work, but I also know myself enough to know that this would be a waste of my time and possibly extremely irritating.  It's also irritating that I think they actually had auditions for this role and couldn't find a satisfactory NYC actress who could play a waitress?!?  You gotta be kidding me.

And please do not think for a second that I think I am too "big" for anything.  That is absurd.  I might be delusional about my Kung-Fu sword fighting skills and my ability to sing death metal, but I am not nor ever will be delusional about my "star meter."  Plus, I'm sure I coulda bought an okay pair of hooker heels with the measly pay or bought my dog some fancy dogfood that doesn't make her farts make me stop, drop, and roll for dear life.  In fact, I recently did some pro bono work for a friend of mine who is developing a pilot for a very good cause, and I've worked with her and others acting in very small projects with little to no budgets.

I just believe that if something doesn't feel right, and you know a situation is only gonna piss you off, unless it's going to adequately compensate you for the time and pain, it's just not worth it.  I feel extremely happy about being in a place where I can feel that way because I earned it.  The old fashioned way.

--Ming Ming

I Just Want to Party All the Time.

So I'm throwing an intimate shindig at our pad tomorrow night for about a dozen friends.  We occasionally love hosting these little soirees, but they're usually very last minute.  I gotta be in the right mood to make the effort because when I host these things, I like to do it right and it's just not fun or worthwhile if I have to stress about it at all.  This time I actually forced myself to send e-vites in advance, plan ahead, and put myself in a position of having to commit.  God, it's so uncomfortable.  But I haven't canceled yet.  It's more than 24 hours away and I've already got all the booze.  Of course.

I had a callback for a commercial this week.  I didn't book it.  But it was actually a somewhat funny deadpan spot that didn't make me want to jump in front of traffic when I left.  Aside from commercials, it's been dreadfully slow.  And apparently not just for me.  My agent says it is so quiet.  Happens sometimes.

I've been floating around in search of a new advanced scene study class to no avail.  The one studio I've been most interested in seems to be having problems with their website, which basically drove me away.  I know it's ridiculous, but hitting that virtual brick wall made me stop and think.  And I realized that I'm not sure I'm quite ready to head back into a class just yet.  Probably because just the thought of it is already annoying me.  But I do realize that it's something to revisit.  I can't keep my chops up and improve if I'm not working out.  At the moment, I am more interested in directing.  Or pole dancing.

Speaking of...I have got to get back into my exercise routine.  I used to be a bit of a fanatic about working out and it got a little out of hand.  Ever since, I've been trying to find that happy medium of doing enough, but not too much.  But I think the competitive ninja athlete in me finds it irresistible to push myself to the limit, so avoiding the extremes of "too much" and "not at all" has been a constant struggle.

GAWD, I am boring myself to tears just writing this.  I can't imagine how boring it must be to read this.  If you've actually read up to this point, I thank you.  And wonder....why?

--Ming Ming

Recyling. Air Conditioning. Do they cancel each other out?

I'm sure I wasn't the only New Yorker who spent the entire day yesterday in bed for no other reason than the A/C in our bedroom is ice cold.  I think we left once to go get ice cream.  A friend of ours who just bought a home in the 'burbs invited us out to cool off in his lake - yup, a friggin lake.  But for some reason, we were having too much fun being lazy bums in our sweatbox in the city, we declined.  It was the perfect opportunity to catch up on movies. 

If you haven't already seen it, Pan's Labyrinth is a great film to check out.  I was completely engaged from the moment it began through to the the moment it ended.  Not only was the art direction and cinematography outstanding, but all of the actors in the film were great too.  It was a beautiful film brilliantly executed.  I regret not going to see it when it was on the big screen.

I've also got a decent short list of plays and even musicals that I'd like to see before they close.  It's one of my favorite things about living here.  I can roll downtown and experience some excellent theater.  And I bet the A/C in there is icy cold too.

The screenplay is moving at a snail's pace.  I've been distracting myself too much with online shopping.  It's both marvelous and dangerous.  I've had this running list of things I've wanted for the house in my head.  Some items I just feel like updating.  But I am doing my best to search for pieces that are used before contributing to the worldwide problem of waste by buying brand new.  I prefer the vintage stuff anyway, though even used the cool stuff can get pretty pricey.  The point is, it is very time consuming, but better for our planet.  I did have a moment of weakness and splurged on a couple dresses and a pair of shades too.

Time to do a little less shopping and a lot more writing.

Back to work.

--Ming Ming

Smooth Moves Junkin the Funk

Miraculously, going out the other night pulled me out of my funk.  I suddenly remembered what it was like to be happy in the moment again and wondered why I had been feeling so uptight and stressed out.  I do think it might have something to do with hormones or glucose or something.  Whatever it is, I'm just glad to be out of it.

I got to meet up with a bunch of friends I haven't seen in a long time.  While it wasn't the best environment conducive for conversation because of the extremely loud live music, it was still fun just to hang out and kick back and laugh.  Then my husband and I and a friend headed over to that wrap party, which would have been fun but the DJ was so lame.  Music makes the vibe and his was terrible.  It was nice to say hi to some familiar faces and enjoy the open bar and hor d'oeuvres. 

I probably should have stuck to my dry spell.  I made a bee line to an executive producer I had snubbed during the shoot because I thought he was just another douchebag actor.  Oops.  I went over to personally apologize for that and to thank him for having me in the film and how much I appreciated the opportunity.  I do recall smelling the alcohol on my own breath while my face was next to his ear.  When I woke up the next morning I had a vague recollection of the exchange and hoped to God I wasn't slurring my words or leaning on him or anything.  I think I did have the presence of mind to make sure I was brief and left right away afterwards before making a complete ass of myself.  All I can hope is that he had a few cocktails too by then.  God, I can be such a bonehead sometimes.

Overall, it almost felt like being at a post-prom party in someone's fancy basement.  We ditched the shindig and hung out at the upstairs bar and then moved our private party to a diner.  T'was way more fun.

As far as other acting-related events, I've been enlisted by a friend to help with a pitch for a TV series.  It's in its earliest stages, but it's a worthwhile project so I agreed to do my part.  Other than that, it was a pretty uneventful week.  I am trying to find the motivation to work on my screenplay and trying to return to that place and that space where my attention and focus and joy is on the process instead of the end product, the paycheck, and results.  Obviously easier said than done.  But I've been there before.  I can get there again.

Onward and upward.

--Ming Ming

8675309.

Another day.  Another commercial audition.  This whole new bar code system is sorta creepy, yet so appropriate.  It makes perfect sense that I'd be providing the casting office a number rather than my name.  The next step would be to implant us with chips like we do with dogs and cats.  That way there's really nowhere to hide.

But I digress.

I'm going to a wrap party tonight.  I am surprised to find myself feeling on the fence about attending.  I don't know if it's because my mood has been on the sour side lately, or if it's because I just can't decide what to wear.  It was such last minute notice, there's no time to shop.  Well actually, I do have all day, but believe it or not, I sort of hate shopping.  I'm just too damn picky and I have to be in the right mood to go through the effort of trying on clothes and waiting on lines.  Wow.  I sound high maintenance.  And lazy.  And perhaps, slightly judgmental?

I mean, I know it's ridiculous to even blog about, but come on.  What girl doesn't think about this sort of ridiculous crap?  I admit I too prefer to look hot than not.  But to be honest, making that much of an effort stresses me out.  Fuck it.  I'm just gonna go with my first choice which is essentially an oversized t-shirt and my 4-inch Bisou-Bisous.  It ain't no Alex McQueen, but will anyone really notice or care?  And if they do, then they probably suck anyway.

I decided a long time ago that I want to donate a portion of my acting earnings to some other cause.  It's hard to pick just one.  And it's not like I can afford that big of a contribution, but something is better than nothing.  I've narrowed it down to three.  I guess contributing to one and then keeping a list to contribute to the others later on might be the way to go.  If there is one that you are directly involved with and you can convince me that the money will actually help the cause, hit me up in a comment.  And no, you as an individual cannot apply as a worthy cause.

Oh and for those of you in NYC, if your career is in need of a jump start, I highly recommend talking to Elena Berger.  This woman has been in the biz for years.  She knows what she's talking about.  She's the real deal.  And she's super cool.  You can contact her through www.elenaberger.com.

--Ming Ming

Ho Hum

Not much to report on here acting-wise.  I realize it's that time of year again when things tend to slow down, in addition to whatever effects the pending negotiations are having on our industry as well.  I should probably be welcoming this time of rest as the weather continues to be outstanding.  But like many of you, I go through cycles of aching and itching for more, more, more. 

As far as to booze or not to booze, I was doing pretty well with my dry spell till I took my agent out for dinner last night.  I decided I could afford to splurge and have a couple cocktails or four.  I've discovered that the longer I've abstained, the more difficult it becomes dealing with the hangover.  Thank god for coconut water.

I did finally watch La Vie en Rose.  If you haven't yet, it's a definite must-see.  It's absolutely no wonder why Marion won the Oscar for her performance.  She's remarkable.  And what an actor's dream of a role.  She got to exercise every juicy imaginary circumstance that probably most of us have tackled during our training at some point or another.  Her emotional work and her specificity with physical impediments was pretty flawless, all executed with great humor and a wisdom well beyond her years.  Bravo.

Beyond enjoying the weather and catching up on films, we're taking the first steps to remodeling our kitchen and planning trips to various weddings this summer.  And I might look into a solo get away for myself as well.

--Ming Ming

Back to the Grind Again

Boy, things are slow.  Only had 1 glorious commercial audition this week.  And you know how much I just love going to those.  I fantasized about dropping the whole commercial thing entirely, but after speaking to my legit agent about it, it's too early.  I'm definitely not wealthy enough yet to pass up on a sweet commercial paycheck.  So until then, I can only afford to be more picky about what I am willing to go out for.

I did however finally clean my digs and stock up the fridge and pay a bunch of bills.  I am still having trouble getting back onto a normal sleeping schedule, but it's all good.  The weather is gorgeous.  My hubs is back at home.  And I haven't had a drink yet.  Not bad, not bad. 

But I am itching to act again of course.  I can't stand being idle.  I can't even believe I'm saying it out loud, but I might even look into a new scene study class again just to keep working out.  Maybe.  My last class sucked pretty bad so we'll see.  I did contact this one coach I've worked with before who I think is the best.  But I don't think her masterclass starts for another month or two, which might work out well because I wouldn't mind spending a couple weeks at the beach anyway.  On the other hand, maybe my time would be better spent hammering out this script I'm writing?  Decisions, decisions.

I think I also need to throw something else into the mix.  I was thinking about picking up a pole dancing class or looking into an intensive yoga training or guitar lessons or something.  I also need to find a designer to redo our kitchen and bathroom.  So many things to do...

Is this what happens when you're off the sauce?  You sit around planning shit 24/7? 

Booooorrrrrring.  Growing up is so hard to do.

--Ming Ming

I Am a Blogging Machine

I've decided I'm going to try to lay off the booze.  Despite the fact that I seem to write about the sauce in every other blog, I don't consider myself as having a drinking problem per se.  Heavy drinker, yes.  Alcoholic....doubtful. 

I take pretty decent care of myself.  I eat super healthy.  Juice fairly regularly.  Exercise now and then.  And hardly ever eat sugar except for an occasional dark chocolate binge.  So it seems sort of retarded to be drinking so much booze.  And after having so little this past month - not including the bottle I polished off last night - I kinda feel like trying to abstain completely for maybe the next month. 

I do believe in moderation and that what you gain in enjoyment is of greater benefit than what you think you gain suffering from deprivation.  However, I am curious to know if I might feel differently off the sauce.  Will I feel energized?  Or crankier?  Will I feel more stressed out?  Or more at ease?  Will my skin glow?  Or will I shrivel up into a sour prune and disintegrate into a pile of dust?  Will I feel depressed?  Or super duper depressed?

I had my first drink when I was in the 7th grade.  Me and two other idiots filled up our shampoo bottles with pina coladas on a camping field trip.  Two chicks were expelled the year before for doing the same thing, which was how we got the idea.  I definitely drank way too much in high school thanks to my boyfriend's older brother who always bought for us.  College was just disgusting.  Immediately following college was a bit of a blur.  And then there was about a year to two I was completely sober.  Not sure why.  Coulda had something to do with the horse tranquilizer someone slipped me.  And then waiting tables and working in bars, of course, I worked up a strong tolerance.  Then I chilled out again for a little while.  The past few years, frequency has decreased, but I can definitely still tie one on.  And now, it just feels like it's time to take another break for some reason.  And no, it's not because I'm knocked up or thinking about getting knocked up.

Not sure how long this will last.  A day?  A week?  Couple hours?  I'm not gonna force anything because that never works for me.  And how exactly does this pertain to acting?  Uh...hmm...drinking has helped me relieve stress and it's stressful to be an actor.  I guess I want to see if I can deal with being an actor without alcohol.  That was lame.

How about this.....Do you have a vice?  Smoking?  Nail biting?  Excessively working out?