Oops, I crapped my pants!

The last time I performed with my improv group an insane amount of panic bubbled up inside of me before the show. It was an "ohmygod ohmygod, I don't wanna, will i survive this?, what are we doing?" kind of feeling. I knew deep down that I wanted to do it. I think. I didn't actually want to leave and not perform but there was so much fear and dread and resistance to going out there on stage and just do it. What the hell?

Is this normal? Other things I do in life don't make me freak the fuck out. I mean, duh, this is the stuff I care about and love and want to succeed at so badly but do other people freak the fuck out? People who are more practiced? People who know they don't suck? Professionals? It really makes me wonder sometimes if this is really what I want to do or if I somehow enjoy the torture. (Maybe it's both.)

In A Director Prepares, Anne Bogart has an entire chapter on resistance. I thought this chapter would somehow validate my wacko feelings on performance. While Bogart believes you have to overcome resistance to accomplish any act, she talks a lot about external resistances. She looks at challenges such as budget and venue restraints explaining that difficulties intensify commitment and therefore create more energy. Sure, that makes sense, Anne, it's also kind of obvious: the more obstacles you care to overcome amplify dedication and passion. It's this energy thing that's kind of interesting and kind of applicable. Bogart argues that in every task, even "easy" ones, you must find the resistance in order to find that conquering energy because energy is the crucial ingredient necessary for theatre.

My last improv show was not perfect, but it was fun. Putting myself out there was the obstacle and in overcoming it, the performace truly did have energy! I'm still a little confused by Bogart, I really think she might be talking about resistance your character faces when on stage, but I'm really trying here! Maybe by compressing their own fear, an actor builds up the energy necessary for overcoming that obstacle and also for outstanding performance. And, I do realize that the stakes for something you really want badly are much higher than for something less important, so therefore the more fear pulsing through my veins tells me how much I really care? The more fear the better? The more personal resistance the better? As long as you're not in danger of completely succumbing to the fear, I guess. Bogart also states that laziness, impatience, and distraction are all constant resistances to everyone in doing everything. Phew.

So, here's to being petrified, terrified, and scared shitless in 2010.

Group Dynamics

I'm working on a new project with a new group of people and I can already tell that one person is crazy. Well, maybe not crazy but a pain in my ass.

While reflecting back on the past year and all the projects I've attempted to start versus the projects that I have actually succeeded at, I wonder how much has really been worth it. It's quite depressing really. However, I have learned. I have learned how to swiftly spot a crazy person that is not worth engaging in my endeavors. The signs are blatantly clear and I have learned not to ignore my intuition and first impressions because, through all the bullshit I have dragged myself through trying to reign in other's bizarre impulses and appreciate delusional thinking while carrying a group's burden on my own back, I can spot you like a hawk! And I know that you have the power to bring me down (not forever, but presently) and I will not do it again.

A novice may appreciate the Angel of Doom's differences and what their perspective would bring to the project. A novice would also be swayed by the resources that the Angel of Doom offers up: perhaps a great crew, director, location, equipment, investor, etc. Just say no! The instant gratification-like feeling you might get from adding a great new resource for your beloved project that you crave seeing come to fruition is not worth the heartbreak. It's all lies! Empty promises! Angel will make you look unprofessional to others, they will take credit for your ideas, and take it personally when you subtly push theirs aside. They will not see the entire picture and make sacrifices to get the project done, they are thinking only of themselves.

From my limited experience with sane collaborators (oh yeah, crazies will scare the sane ones far far away), it's worth the wait! Someone will get you someday and it feels so much better to sit in a meeting with someone and just know that you are on the same page.

I am breaking up with you, Angel of Doom, for good. I'm not looking for any more one night stands, I'm the marrying type. So, current crazy person bane of my existence, pack your bags and hit the road! You're fired.

The Disconnect

I had an appointment with my shrink the other day and we started talking about my career. She said something along the lines of, "I know that you're a very accomplishment oriented person and that you talk about all these projects and endeavors and what you need to do to succeed, but there seems to be a disconnect when it comes to execution." Woah! Shrinker just called me out on my bullshit. Not that it's bullshit, but she's kinda right.

There is most definitely a disconnect for me. It's not that I haven't tried to connect, because I certainly have, it's that sometimes it's hard not to get paralyzed and overwhelmed by fear and ignorance. I'd like to think that I'm learning more and more about this industry everyday but the truth of the matter is, I still don't have anything close to a technical team that I can attach to my creative projects. I still have creative teams flake out and disperse constantly. Have I stopped trying? No. But have I lost a little of my gusto? Yes.

There may be a self-confidence issue at play too, a fear to totally put myself out there and be rejected. The thing with rejection is, art is so subjective and if someone hates me and thinks I'm a moron then there's gotta be someone out there that thinks I'm a genius.

Somehow I need to kick things up into hyper gear. There's no more time to lose.

Bartle Doo

There's a guy named Ed Bassmaster that makes YouTube videos. Basically he has 5 different characters that go out into the real world, act ridiculous, and make people feel uncomfortable. He exploits people and their embarrassment in a Borat-type way only he's not as funny. For instance he goes into a Walmart and talks to a woman about camping equipment but speaks mostly gibberish mumbled together with a few real words. The result is not exactly hilarious, we just see a confused employee genuinely struggling to try to help this man. However, Ed Bassmaster works full time for YouTube. He has enough fans and enough independent video making gusto to make it his career.

Ed Bassmaster recently received a call from Sean Penn, who had seen his videos on YouTube and really enjoyed them. As a result he flew this guy out to L.A., put him up in his personal guest house, and set him up with a meeting with Ben Stiller.

This is exactly why I want and need to follow my own path with this stuff. It's why I have to work hard, do quality work, and then put it out into the atmosphere. Heads it is, people.

My dilemma.

I'm pretty sure that the only way I'm going to make it in this industry is by doing things on my own terms. I sort of got into this on Saturday October 10. I know my strengths and my weaknesses and in what direction I'd like to move in. Knowing all of these things, I have faith in myself more than anyone else to produce a really great project. Problem is, as an actor, I would have to dedicate a whole lot of time to aspects other than just my acting performance. Producing your own project is not exactly quick or easy. Or can it be? I think with practice it really can be. Rewind: At my stage in the game producing my own project is not exactly quick or easy. I know that in the process, when all is said and done I will submit that project to every festival I can, post it and plug it on the internet, and try my darndest to get it seen by as many people as possible! The gamble here is time and the potential to waste it, whether it be on flaky potential directors or finalizing a script. If the project falls through, there could be nothing to show for my time and energy. (The voice inside my head screams: "Don't let if fall through! Get it done somehow! Just do it!)

My roommate is constantly auditioning and he is constantly involved in projects. Some of the projects are shitty and some are not. Sometimes I wonder if I should just take his lead, get out there, do my share of shitty projects in exchange for a few decent ones and let the cards fall. The scary and liberating part of this scenario is that as an actor, a lowly actor, you don't have much control over the situation other than your own performance. If I'm brilliant but the production is sub par I can't invite industry people. If I'm brilliant and the production is amazing and my fellow actors are also brilliant, I certainly would invite industry, that's a gamble though. Just because I invite certain agents and casting directors doesn't mean they won't latch on to anyone else or show up at all. I'd get experience out of it. I could build my resume. I could get footage for a reel. I could meet talented people. All of those things are really important!

The dilemma comes when I'm deciding where to concentrate my energy. Which of these two sides of the coin? My gut always tells me heads until I see one of my actor friends in a really great project...Perhaps I concentrate on heads for a while and let tails lay dormant for the time being. When heads becomes too tedious or overwhelming, I give tails a chance? Because it is extremely difficult to concentrate on both at the same time. It's counter-productive, I know, but it seems that whichever I chose, I'm wondering what could be happening on the other side of the coin.

Fuck fuckity fuck with a fuck on top and a shit in your pants!

For the love of Christ, sometimes talking to my father makes me want to pull my own eyes out!

Last night I flipped my shit while researching (FUCKING EXPENSIVE) alternative health insurance options with my dad when I miserably realized how worth it it is to keep my under stimulating job just to earn the god damned insurance. Papa was silent while I basically conducted an entire conversation with myself about how much I really hate the fucking job with all my heart and soul and about quitting and winging it while unemployed (and being a great deal poorer). I talked to myself about other jobs (for which I have not applied and do not have) and how I basically don't want to do anything at all. I really worked myself into a tizzy. My father remained silent! He wanted me to think it out and make my own decision and some bullshit. I asked him, "Well, what the fuck? You think I'm bi-polar?" to which he replied, "The part that scares me is that you seem more focused on running away from things rather than what it is you're running toward."

EAT SHIT AND DIE! (I don't really mean that. Daddy, if you read this, I'm sorry) Really?!?! You choose to speak with clarity at a time like this!!!!!!!! Uuugh. And he's (kinda) right, he's always (at least kinda) right, that's why I want to slit my throat. He asked me if I hated the people or if I hated doing the job, and the answer was a resounding: THE IMBECILIC, ABJECT PEOPLE. Switch store locations. Problem solved.

FUCK SHIT DAMN. Was it really that easy? As I bitched about on Wednesday October 28, a day job should not make you plan your own suicide. It should ideally be a mostly-painless fact of life, necessary for survival. And, blog-iverse, perhaps I'm fixated so much on my day job #1 because it is that fucking bad right now and #2 I'm not currently working on a really exciting artistic project! STOP NODDING IN AGREEMENT, POP, I know where you sleep! So I should swiftly handle problem #1 and be done with it (and waste no more precious blogging space) and deal with my real plight and passion in life #2.

I HATE YOU ALL.

Head versus Gut

I am so over my day job. I want to put my 2 weeks notice in immediately. I'm entirely too competent for this crap.

To get down to the nitty gritty, my parents are very supportive; more so financially than emotionally, but both nonetheless. They want me to pursue my dream and get what I want out of life. To paraphrase my father: since they are able to help me, my parents are happy to give me that advantage in such a difficult field. I adore them for this while also feeling extremely guilty and pathetic. So, basically, I get a monthly allowance that in conjunction with my blood money enable me to pay my ludicrous rent, eat somewhat sensibly, and take classes every once in a while. My end of this bargain is that I have to have health insurance. To paraphrase my mother: If you lose your insurance, no deal. You're completely cut-off! Pretty brutal. But I get it.

The only reason I still work at this ill-managed, hobo-ladden java joint is because I get part time benefits. I was sure that I could find another health insurance option. There are a few other places that offer part time benefits but I don't want to work at those other places, it would be easier to stay where I am. Paying cobra or independently is mega-expensive and most of the options for freelancers have a super high deductible and cover nothing! I am not overly needy but I'd like to continue getting my twice a month shrink appointments, my kill-the-baby pills, and regular tune-ups.

Here's my crazy plan: Maybe I quit my job and pay for non-sucky insurance. It would be an expense, but I certainly would still have enough money to live if I adjusted my spending in other areas. A chicky in my improv group is a cater-waiter. It sounds like she doesn't mind it, it's extremely flexible, and it pays decently. I also know someone who works for Story Pirates teaching and performing for kids in schools and she loves it! I also have an internet writing gig that pays me on a sliding scale depending on hits, subscriptions, etc. I could milk my connections to get a better job, use my time to build up that website, and maybe even concentrate on getting PAID acting work like commercials.

This plan releases an insane amount of pressure in my chest. But I'm scared! I don't know if I have the balls to do it! I'm not good with change! On the flip side , maybe the desperation will light the fire under my ass to get going in a career building direction.

My parents have advised me to have a plan before I quit my current job. That is the aggravatingly responsible thing to do. I should do that, my brain tells me I should do that. It's just that the rest of me is shrieking to get the fuck out of my current situation as fast as humanly possible. It'll all work out...right?...

Deflowered

My improv group had our first show on Saturday night. It was kinda good! In retrospect I'm embarrassed to admit that my expectations for the night were pretty damn low. C'mon, have you seen those shitty shows at Broadway Comedy Club? They are all uncomfortably awkward. I don't know if it's the table set-up, the extremely shallow
stage, or the drink minimum on top of ticket price for every show but that place has become my nightmare.

We rented out the Producer's Club, invited three other teams and magically we had mini-UCB. It was kind of amazing! It was our first show so I was wary to invite people, but the morning of the show I decided to spread the word to a select few warning them that we could possibly suck. Silly me. Friends, I'm sorry I doubted you! I honestly forgot that you are the most supportive people in the world. Not even kidding. My friends, improv-trained and non-improv trained especially, laughed their butts off, were super complimentary, and can't wait for our next show. Go figure! I forgot that there was a way to watch improv without being super critical!

Our set was fine. Of course, there are things I wish I had done differently but we made it through and hopefully it only gets better from here. It really sucks to feel like you're not that good at something you really want to be good at, but I'm fully aware that just doing it is the best way to learn. Ready, fan club? Here we go!

Bad Attitude

I just re-read my last post. Depending on who you are, you might be judging me and dismissing me thinking I have an attitude problem. I'm even judging me thinking I have an attitude problem.

I'm taking a new class with Karen Kohlhaas. She encourages actors to embrace the unexpected chaos that may arise in even the worst of situations and use it as a gift. She even has a mantra, "Oh, good!" that she encourages everyone to adopt in their career and life in general. For example: There's a window in this audition room, "oh good" I'll look out it and use it for my monologue; A dog busted through the audition room door and bit me, "oh good" I'll use this fear and pain for my piece; My apartment burned down, "oh good" I was dreading carrying that futon down the steps someday in the unforeseen future.

When you boil it down, Karen believes in having a good attitude. By rolling with the punches in an optimistic way, we as actors can contribute to proactively affecting the seemingly uncontrollable audition room. And this, my friends, is the part that really resonates with me: accepting responsibility for your own fate.

Believe it or not, deep down I really truly have a good attitude. I think. I mean, I wouldn't still be here in this insane city, enduring endless crap if I didn't. Oooh oooh oooh, wait, I got one: I'm constantly being beaten down by ridiculous relentless bullshit, "oh good" more fuel for my comedy.

And may I point out, nay-sayers, the final line of my last post was also an "oh good": Alas, pain is good for my art.

Thank you, you're adorable!

I used to be courteous, adorable and polite too...but that was when I was young and stupid.

I work as a barista at a monster coffee chain. When I first started, although overwhelmed, I followed that golden rule: treat others as you would like to be treated. Problem is New Yorkers are fucking assholes! There's only so much abuse one person can take and remain considerate and kind. Don't get me wrong, I have my regular customers who are awesome people, but I also have more than my fair share of despicably high-maintenance, impatient, patronizing, self-centered douche-bags. I have no problem now engaging in full blown arguments and blatant looks of disgust.

It's true, I hate my day job. An actor friend of mine reminded me that I will always hate my day job, that's just a given. I completely understand where she was coming from but I have to disagree. When a person spends 20+ hours a day at their asinine day job they should not be wishing for death every single minute of it! A person's day job, should not squelch one's firey, driving, spirit and kill every creative instinct in one's entire being. I refuse to waste hundreds of thousands of hours of my life being utterly miserable. It's a ways to a means...that's the part I need to remember. Maybe I should worry more about the day when I stop hating my day job because I have become content in the mediocre, under-stimulating, easy way out.

In the mean time I could just look for another job.

Alas, pain is good for my art.

Attainable?

This television season is insane! It is the first time in my life that I’ll turn on a show and think, “I know that guy, how do I know that guy?”

I’ve been taking classes and seeing shows at Upright Citizens Brigade for a couple years now and it’s getting to the point where I’m seeing people actually succeed. It reminds me of when I was a freshman in high school and I walked by the varsity football players and I didn’t really know who they were but they were kind of mysterious, and big and meaty, and could grow facial hair. But then they graduated and disappeared and a new class of varsity football boys moved up the ranks.

With a “senior class” of UCB actors hitting it big constantly:
SNL’s Bobby Moynihan
Accidentally on Purpose’s Lennon Parham
Community’s Donald Glover
The Office’s Ellie Kemper
Parks and Recreation’s Aubrey Plaza to name a few,
I am not overwhelmed with hatred and jealousy as I would have predicted. I am excited and hopeful that there could quite possibly (eventually) be a place in this industry for people like me.

In high school, I didn’t actually give a rat’s ass about football. Turns out not many people do. And I have no idea where those 18 year old athletes are now, if they played college ball, etc. But these talented performers “graduated” from UCB and followed through to the next bigger arena. The biggest arena: the real world.

Thanks "friends"

There was an SVA actor/filmmaker mixer the other night. As pessimistic as I was feeling about flaky directors who talk a big game but never deliver, School of Visual Arts has by far produced the best student films I’ve done.

I was expecting this thing to be lame (perhaps just a projection of my bad attitude) but when I approached there was a line to get in! When I was standing there this girl comes up and cuts the line by merging next to me. I was kind of put off but kind of didn’t care until she started talking to me. I was there alone so when she decided that we would be friends I was kind of grateful. Once inside we pounced on some animators pronto to chit chat, and I don’t know if it was the slight bit of competition from my “friend” or if I just don’t give myself enough credit, but I was a fabulous schmoozer. As me and my buddy met other people together I began to sense more and more that we were not actually friends. I mean, I was selling my self as improv-trained comedy and writing girl whereas she was very much period piece dramatic emoting girl but still- bitch bolted while I was very passionately sharing my gut wrenching disgust for horrendous network sitcoms like Two and a Half Men and (gag) Big Bang Theory. Good riddens. I frickin worked it solo! I handed out all of my headshots and business cards, lost my voice by the end, and I even got some sprite young things interested in MY project. BOOM! FO’ REAL!

AND to make my evening even better, I stopped in a bodega on the way to the train and saw these rare beauties:
I’ve only had the mango one once and it was THE SHIT. I look for them everywhere but to no avail until…ta-dah! Is this a sign from god? I bet it is.

SUCK MY ARIZONA! I OWN THIS CITY!

Jesus, John

I’m taking a comedy class with John Gallagher. When I signed up I had no idea who the dude was. He likes to name-drop all day and night, which made me skeptical. He’s a very nice guy but I’m still not completely sure what my read is on him yet. Yesterday in class he gave us some auditioning advice, which apparently won two of his very successful actor friends (whose names he most certainly specified at the time) the greatest auditions of their lives.

As one of the stories goes, this guy was on his way to a huge audition when he was accosted. The event left him rattled and took his mind off the audition entirely. When the guy entered the audition room he explained his odd experience and gave a great audition, landing the part.

Ok, I certainly see the merit of getting out of your head and acting completely on impulse in an audition room. It keeps the scene honest and fresh.

Mr. Gallagher seems to think the moral of the story is to make up some cockamamie tale to tell at the beginning of your audition so that the auditioners have a window into your true personality. He insists that this will make you unforgettable and win you the part. I’m not even kidding, we spent time in the class one by one entering the “audition room” with and impromptu tall tale.

What the?!? I find this advice extremely hard to swallow. Wasn’t the whole example based on the fact that the terrifying event really did happen to the auditioner and what that event actually did to the actor and his performance? If you enter an audition with a bizarre-o story and then do a bad job on your sides, you will simply be remembered as that bizzare-o individual that must be avoided. John’s comments on my wild entrance in class was that I can come in and tell a completely manic story and then audition for a somber part and TA-DAH, I’ve just shown them my range rather than just the somber sides….Hmmmm. This kind of makes sense. John also strongly believes that an actor as a person is hugely important during the auditioning process in addition to acting skill and that this little story does give the auditioner a glimpse at that person, whether they plan on breaking the ice or not. Jesus, John. I don’t know what to think anymore.

I kind of get what he’s saying…but I also kind of think it’s weird and manipulative to go around telling made up stories about freak accidents and traumas.

Get the f*** out of my way.

I’m sick of auditioning for people’s shit. I’m sick of getting my hopes up for a great role only to wind up in a room reading sides with more typos than I can count in front of an overweight dude with a handicam basking in his temporary power. Honestly, I auditioned for a role, in a non-porno mind you, playing a prostitute that gets murdered (along with all the other prostitutes in the whore house) by having a lit firecracker jammed up my vagina. No thank you. I’m sick of auditioning for rinky dink projects with heinous scripts and absolutely zero forward momentum.

I’m not one to sit around and bitch. I bitch and then I rack my mind to be proactive. So, deciding to take matters in my own hands, I decided I would write my own script. A script that wasn’t horseshit and a script about a kick ass character I wanted to play. I did this. TWICE. The first time, with the help of a few co-writers, we wrote a pretty awesome 30 minute sitcom pilot. The creative part was easy, I can trust myself to do that and do that well. I was at a sort of roadblock, though. I don’t know jack about the technical stuff. I don’t know how to get locations, equipment, lighting, camera angles, and so on and so on. Turns out having a delusional friend thinking your script is their ticket to fame, claiming ownership, and then forcing you to get lawyers involved will completely make all technical aspects of that project completely disappear.

Currently I’m at that same roadblock again on another project. At this point I’m slightly jaded and feel like I’m the only person I can rely on. I could take matters into my own hands and go back to school or put a massive amount of effort into learning all of the technical stuff, but I don’t really want to. I can’t afford to spread myself too thin, I want to be an actor! Not a writer, not a producer…I think. Shut up. I’ll do what I have to do. Geez.

So I find myself in the uncomfortable position of having to rely on other people. I somehow have to find people that give a shit as much as I do, will work as hard as I will, and, oh yeah, AREN’T BRAINDEAD. They’ve got to be out there somewhere. As pissed off as I know I sound, ultimately I’m pretty sure that I’m an optimistic person. I guess I have to keep auditioning for other people’s crap too. I mean, counting all the ri-god-damn-diculous situations I’ve found myself in so far, maybe probability is on my side by now?

A Blog is Born

I’m an actor. Or at least I’m trying to be. Do I get paid to act? No. When people ask me what I do, I hesitate to say I’m an actor. I don’t want to be lumped into the giant cesspool of lazy waiters, bartenders, and temps that say that they’re actors because they don’t want to admit that they’re just lazy waiters, bartenders, and temps. Am I just like them? Sometimes…whatever…shut up. I guess the good ones (and the persistent ones) rise to the top?

That’s what I love and hate about this industry. I really do believe that you have to be tough to make it. As a white, 20-something, female I’m pretty interchangeable with lots of other white, 20-something, females BUT I’m a lot tougher than most of them. As their feelings get hurt and success, in fact, does not come easy they’ll lose interest and leave a smaller pool of white, 20-something females. I’ll still be there, a battered wife, taking the abuse but maybe, just maybe I’ll be a little bit stronger and a little bit wiser as a result. I’ll also, perhaps, be a white, 30-something, female by then but you get what I mean.

Am I talented? Hells if I know. I know I don’t completely suck but I also know that I’m not god’s greatest gift to stage and screen. Not yet, anyway. You know, I don’t actually think it matters. Plenty of awful idiots get cast all the time, which is infuriating. But why can’t I be the next (questionably) awful idiot to get cast? Word.