Unscripted - A Blog for Actors - Backstage

...And Thanks For All The Fish!

My job at Unscripted has ended.  I'm proud to have been one of the first bloggers here and that my stay has been so long.  I will miss this community and the experience, but change is needed - happy change - on both sides.  I have learned so much, felt a real growth with my writing and made some wonderful friends. 

September always feels like a new start, so this timing is perfect.  This past summer has been a very strange and wonderful coming-around of sorts for myself.  It's the start of my second decade here in this city.  I am in the black for the first time of my adult life.  Just when I worried I'd never be on stage ever again - I did a wonderful show.  I've had more fun and met more new people than I could have imagined.  I've also reconnected with some long-lost, dearly cherished pals, and I CUT MY HAIR!

Pissed Off, Or: Wisdom Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

As my light continues to fade here... I wanted to take one of my last (for now) opportunities to speak in a public forum to share an important message with all my sisters out there... all the wonderful women of the world.  And that is: Please sit your ass down when you pee in a public restroom.  For the love of god.  It's people like you who spray all over the seat and make a mess.  (You will not get sick and die from a toilet seat, I promise.)  And what's worse is you are also urinating all over yourself and your clothes.  That's just nasty.  I have seen it.  I have even had someone else's spray splatter my foot from the stall next door.  SIT.  DOWN.  Have some class.

And now, with that delicate matter out of the way... I was just reminded last night of one of my favorite theatre stories of all time...

Reflections Part 3: Wherever You Go, There You Are.

My mother told me, "I hope you don't regret the time you spent in Boston".  I was afraid I would but the truth is if I never got my feet wet in Boston, I don't know if I would have made it to NYC.  And so it was a hot, steamy August day 10 years ago when I arrived in New York City, the borough of Queens. Happy anniversary to me.  Now I can rightfully say: Whatthefuckyoulookinat, huh?

Anyway... It probably took all of three minutes to unload my paltry belongings into the tiny, overly moist room in the basement.  Luckily there was a bed and a dresser and even a dehumidifier which was badly needed though really no match for the tropical conditions of the space.  I was now among friends - college friends who were actors (mostly), too.  So, after 2 years of loneliness and heartache, I was home.  Let the partying begin!

Megan Wants A Murderer

(Ok, fine - an alleged person of interest in a murder.) Have you seen this story?  A swimsuit model was found dead in a suitcase and a reality TV star is "a person of interest" in the crime.  The show that has made him this "star", you ask?  Megan Wants A Millionaire, of course.  Starring Megan Hauserman of Beauty & The Geek, Rock of Love, I Love Money and Rock of Love Charm School fame.

Oh, Megan... I worry for your safety (despite my bitterness that your IMDB page is way longer than mine).  Did Scooter teach you nothing? 

How To Make A Cheeseball:

In an overly long film, add:
1). a little ham,
2). a lot of syrup,
3). water it down thoroughly. 

Voila.

Too bad, so sad...

I was annoyed by the final cut of my former passion project, the film based on the book, Julie & Julia.  I had read the book and fallen in love with it and wanted nothing more than to be a waitress or some anonymous brunette in a corner for the movie.  I submit myself to everyone (even straight to the director) to no avail... well, you can read the story here, so I don't have to re-hash it (I'm realizing how many food analogies we use in everyday life - so I'm not trying to be pun-tastic, it's just the way it is).

Reflections Part 2: Taking The Plunge And Being All Wet

Now that I was in Boston, I had to find income.  I literally pounded the pavement each day to the point of wondering if my swollen, blistered feet would ever look normal again.  I forget which came first but one part time job was at an art supply store in Cambridge and the other was at the Museum of Fine Arts gift shop (I haaaaated this job).  Some days I worked 16 hours - and yes, one day I did get up early to open the store only to show up at the entirely wrong job in the entirely wrong part of town, dressed entirely wrong.

I have so many anecdotes about getting established, but there just isn't time.  I will share this: I bellied up to a bar one afternoon to use their yellow pages while leisurely sipping a coke so I could get the numbers for the gas company, electric, phone, etc and was harassed by a drunk Elvis impersonator with a Tweety Bird poster that he was pretending to have talk to me.  [IMPORTANT NOTE:  Boston is full of crazy people.]

Now... I just needed to find the acting work... and Boston wasn't giving up her secrets easily....

Reflections Part 1: So Close And Yet So Far

I mentioned once that actor interviews always grate on me because they always gloss over the important details. Q: How did you get your big break?  A: I did this one commercial and an agency noticed me...

There are so many stepping stones left out of that equation, it's almost the opposite of helpful.

I'm not a celebrity at the moment, but I've had a journey.  And as some things begin and others end and milestones are soon to be reached... I've been looking back on my loopy path to the present and beyond.

The More Things Change The More They Stay The Same.

It's no secret that I long to leave my day job.  It may happen in the near future or it may not.  For the longest time I'd been focusing on trying to land the dream acting job that could afford that for me - a recurring soap role, a major national spot, etc.  And we all know how easy those are to come by... so I've shifted my focus and have managed to triple my savings account in the last 3 months and am finding ways to cut back - like with my email and website services.

Clowns Don't Have To Be Scary.

Except for the crazies I was forced to overhear last night on a right-wing radio station during a long cab ride.  Which is it, nut-jobs: Did Obama give Bill Clinton - who holds no office - the ok to make nuclear concessions with North Korea in order to free those journalists (which our public had basically forgotten about, so, you know, no one was really pressuring the gov to make a desperate deal), or was this a Clinton camp scheme to undermine Obama and pave the way for Hillary's 2012 presidential bid?  Huh?  Which is it, Mr. Crazy-Pants radio host?

But I'm not talking about those clowns (because they actually are scary) - I'm talking about real clowns.  Or, rather, the art of clowning.  It's something I'm starting to appreciate.  And no, I haven't lost my mind.

Hermit The Crab

I can feel it sneaking up behind me... it won't be long now until I slip into being a cranky hermit once again...  The past several month shave been busy, fun and, actually, a return to self in many ways.  But it can't last forever.  This, too, shall pass.

I am hard on myself.  I work myself hard then when I burn out, I get doubly so because I feel like a loser for not having the energy to keep plugging.  It happens.  I know the pattern well by now.