I Need to Sell Specs to a Blind Man

I just had drinks with a girl I hadn't seen in maybe six years.  We graduated AMDA together and she has since moved on to bigger and better things in the financial world but has not lost her sense of comedy and confidence. She could sell spectacles to a blind man. But more importantly, she is one of the few people on this earth that I've encountered that does not apologize for who she is. She is remarkable.

We were never really friends at school but I had always found her fascinating and beautifully quirky.  However, I had missed just how powerful she is. Here is a woman who knows her strengths and weaknesses.  But then she takes it a step further and knows how to market them.

I admire her and walked away from that conversation feeling so much better than I have in ages. I've known for a long time now just what and who I am. And I have always been fine with it when I was all by me one-zies. But around others, I found myself apologizing or feeling like I imposed who I was on other people just by being me.

I don't have to do that. It slows me down.  What's more, I need to upsell me.  I need to convince blind people that they need to buy my spectacles.  ...that was a metaphor in case you missed it.

She also showed me what it is to take things WAY less seriously. As many of you know, I don't do well with embarrassment or awkwardness. Probably why I don't date much. All those questions of what I say or don't say or if I don't like him or if I do. BAHHHHHHH! Already there's too much thinking.

This friend of mine is a dating fiend. You don't go into it with all that pressure. You go into it with the knowledge that you're going to have a drink and maybe some good conversation. If it bombs, you got a great story later for your memoirs. It's definitely one of those areas that I've not said "YES" to lately.

For me, people are an investment. And it takes a lot for me to invest. But as this lovely lady has reminded me, sometimes good conversation is nice, too. Even if it doesn't go anywhere.

So it's something I'll mull over for a bit. This is the year of YES for career. I've got too much on my plate to get messy and slobbery over man-cubs. But I'm thinking soon it may be time to dust off the ol' killer heels and war paint and have some conversation.

As for said career...

Things have been promising. But still very much on a wing and a prayer. I may be signing an assistant stage management contract for a month this summer where I'll get EMC points. I'm pretty sure I'm teaching musical theatre for a week in WA in July. I'm still shooting a film for a week in June. And I just got to the third round of callbacks for a tour that would start in the fall. I was told that the producer (who's put up Broadway shows) would "probably" want to see me in person.  Now, in showbiz language, "probably" doesn't mean a whole helluva lot.  So I won't count my chickens.  But regardless, they saw 75 people and only called back three.  So I feel pretty damn good.

I also filmed my second NYU film project last week. I'm telling you, I love film. I have no idea if I'm any good.  And to be honest, I don't ever want to watch myself. It's the process that is so great.

I will end up watching myself because I'll have to compile footage for a reel. But once that's done, I doubt I'll ever watch what I'm in ever again, unless forced. Your mind can be your best friend or your worst enemy. You may think you are the next Meryl Streep and then watch your playbacks and see you are actually a second hand pee-wee herman. Or vice versa. But for me, the end product isn't what I'm after. It's being able to have a connection with the actor or camera, give a variety of different takes, and then letting the director and editor have their merry way with it whilst I gallavant off to the bank.

We'll see how that goes. But the very thought of watching that footage puts acid in my stomach. I want to be good. Because I realize just how much it makes me happy. It's like when you find someone who makes your hands tingle every time they look at you; because they make you so happy, you want desperately to do right by them.

In other news, I've written nearly 36 pages of faff for my novel and I'm enjoying every bit of it. It's probably a bit of rubbish but it is a fantastic release and something wholly unconnected with anything else that's going on. It makes me hope even more that I sign with that EMC ASM job that is in podunk USA so that I'll have plenty of time to write and have quiet.

It's sounding better and better.

Spring lasts about three days here.  The air is already turning and you can smell the heaviness about to descend.  The humidity is coming.  But until then I enjoy my walks to work in the early morning.  I put in my headphones and listen to a little Emeli Sande or Jason Mraz, I pick up my AMny newspaper and do the crossword, I sometimes pick up a coffee roll and coffee from the Coffee Cart guy on 6th ave and 28th st., walk through the haze of weed from the drug dealers on the corner, and then have my five minutes of lovely overcast chilly spring.  I don't know what people are complaining about.  Give me an overcast day with a slight breeze and it's heaven.  It's home.  Makes me miss the Puget Sound, driving with the windows down with the rain dampening my skin as I reach my hand out the window at a stop light.  I miss the early morning walk in London, over the Millenium bridge to the Globe as I listen to Ray Charles and Bob Dylan, the sun just rising over the Thames.  And I miss Scotland.  Music on every corner, the chill to the bones, the history and tradition.  The pride. 
Overcast days are like reminders of when I've felt the most useful, secure, challenged, and loved. 

So I make sure, as I walk up the concrete steps to work that I take a deep breath of that chill, knowing that it won't be there much longer.  The summer is coming, and that's when the real combat begins.

 

Kissing Strangers is My Job.

Woops.  It's been a month.  I would say I fell off the face of the planet but I think that would be an incorrect statement.  It was more like when you flush the toilet only half way and it just kinda idles forever but nothing ever goes anywhere. ...ok, that was disgusting.  I apologize.

But you get the idea.

I have been busy though. 

I booked two student films.  And started filming one last weekend and have rehearsal for the other tomorrow morning before I go to my two jobs. It has been a month of no days off and 16 hour work days.  Plus the two hours commute I've been spending on the bloody subway.  But I am hustling.  I am showing up.  And man, am I tired. 

But let me tell you about my first experience kissing a stranger to get a job.  It's not as bad as it sounds.  So I auditioned for a NYU film called "Mirrors" and was called back to see if I had chemistry with the guy who would play my husband.  The movie takes place in the 1950s so you can just imagine the fun I am having with the hairstyles. :)  Pictures to come.

I go in for the callback and read the sides.  uh-huh.  In plain text, "Nancy leans in and kisses him."  Well, believe it or not, I've never been cast in a role where I had to kiss anyone.  I'm always the best friend, the lonely housewife, or the nurse.  But I went in, said "Hey, nice to meet you." to the actor.  And did the scene.  And I gotta tell you...it's weird.  It ain't sexy.  But it must have worked because I got the job.

This last weekend we shot on an NYU soundstage, used green screen, shot in black and white, at one point I was standing on a turn table being spun slowly around like a porche on display.  I had my own make up and hair crew, they had real 1950s appliances and checkered flooring and even had a Beyonce fan blowing my hair in one scene.  It was hilarious ...and it was so friggin' fun.  I really like film.  I like the process and the machines.  I like being able to do more than one take so that 1. there's no pressure to "get it right" the first time, and 2. you can try different things each time.  I like that you don't have to try so hard.  You just look into the camera or into your co stars eyes and have a conversation.  There's not projection or large gesture.  You just think or feel, and it shows up on screen.  And I don't really mind the waiting either.  When you are surrounded by the right balance of good spirited people, it could be fun to hang out for an hour as they adjust lighting while you play name that Disney tune.  I could get used to this.  And clearly it's a sign that I should keep submitting for these auditions considering that they are the only ones that are calling me in. 

That's another thing.  Auditioning for film goes like this:  Submit your headshot online.  They either call you or they dont.  If they call you, they give you an appointment time and slides from the script.  Usually a couple days before the audition but sometimes the night before.  You don't have to memorize them.  Just be familiar with it, make a few specific choices, and be done with it.  Then you show up at the allotted time, they get you in the door, ten minutes tops you are outta there.  And you continue with the rest of your day.  No wasted time.  No stress.  They either want you or they don't.  It takes a lot of pressure off knowing that it is almost always about the right looks and sound.  So it isn't a personal slight if I don't get it.  It just wasn't what they were looking for.

And if I don't get something, I've recently developed the mantra:  "That's ok.  It was because I was too pretty."  Yes, you can laugh.  But it's better than racking my brain for what I did wrong or telling myself it was because I was too fat or too bitchy or TOO TOO TOO.  What's funny is that this director of the film said the people in her class who had to review the audition tapes said that I WAS too pretty for the role.  I assured the director that I have no problems with ugly.  Try me after an hour of hot yoga and a subway ride with no air conditioning.  I can do Ugly. 

Anyway.  So I'm gonna keep on hustling and see what happens.  Theater has been a dead end as of right now.  If I get seen, they want me to sing.  When I sing in auditions, I mess up or freak out.  I don't know why singing for auditions puts the fear of jeebus in me but it does.  And I haven't figured out if it's a good or bad fear.  The good fear is one that you should push through.  The bad is the kind that is telling you to back off.  I like to sing for fun or I'd like to sing in a smoky underground speakeasy with only torch songs and jazz standards to keep me warm.  Not 16 bars with an accompanist I don't know with people staring expectantly in my face.  It's just not enjoyable.  And it makes me nauseous. 

So that's that.  Am I 2.5 seconds away from running off to New Orleans in search of something new?  Or a horse ranch in Texas?  Or a shack by the ocean where I can write nothing but dark empty prose and curse the world for its fickleness?  Oh my, yes.  But I'm still here.  I'm still kicking.  And the discipline and streamlining coming up in my life is only going to get worse.  Or better.  Depending on how you look at it. 

But I can guarantee by the end of this chapter of my life, no one will be able to say I didn't try.