Saturday, September 18, 2010

Random.

"I should be sleeping but instead I'm ________"

Usually, I fill the blank with "bejewled blitz," "texting," etc...

Tonight, I fill the blank with blogging.

Occasionally this will happen to me. My body will be exhausted but my brain will be going a mile a minute, and the only way to slow it down, is to start writing something. I look at my brain as a cluttered storage unit. The more I write down, the more junk I can clear out.

The goal is sleep....so here are some random thoughts, and hopefully the zzzzzs will kick in.

Retainers are a bitch.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I was first given my retainer my 3rd year in high school. It is blue and sparkly, and at this point in my life, it looks downright retarded. I remember sitting in the orthodontist chair the day I received it. I remember the orthodontist lecturing me on this ridiculous contraption and its purpose, as if she was telling me the meaning of life. I ate up every word she said.

"You must wear your retainer every night for the rest of your life, or your teeth will move, and you'll be back at square one."

I went into panic mode. I envisioned my adult years lying next to a boyfriend or husband and having to sneak off to the bathroom in the middle of the night to insert my hideous retainer. I thought of all of the lies I would have to tell the future men in my life so that I would be able to secretly get away with wearing this retainer. I looked at my retainer as a dating death sentence.

Many years later, I hardly wear the retainer. I might pop it in once a week for kicks....in fact, right now I'm wearing it...and let me tell you...it hurts like a bitch.

My grandma passed away about 7 years ago, but she'll pop into my thoughts at the most random moments. Today she popped into my thoughts on my way home from work. I remember something she used to tell me as a kid.

She would always say, "I love you so much, I can't stand it."

I would always cheerfully respond with, "I can't stand you either, grandma."

As a kid, I never understood why she would collapse in laughter every time I said this. I was just trying to tell her that I loved her with all my heart. But I figured, if I was getting a positive response from saying it, I was going to keep on saying it.

Boy, I was a strange child.

When I was a kid, I started a club with my cousin and little brother. It was called the "tooth club." We had discovered a glorious way to fill our pockets with cash without having to wait for an allowance. We found a plastic container and called it the "tooth holder," and we decided that we would cash in our teeth with the tooth fairy and reap the benefits. When it occurred to us that we would have to deliberately knock out our own teeth just to speed up our new banking system, we ended the club.


When I was in middle school, my parents somehow ended up owning a baby blue station wagon. It had originally belonged to my grandma, but she decided to give us the car at some point. The car comfortably seated 10 people. It was a tank. When the station wagon got old, the windows used to get stuck. One day, the very back window got stuck, and my mom's solution to fix the window, was to patch it up so that rain and leaves didn't blow into the back of the car. Of all the things she chose to close the window up with, she picked a neon pink shower curtain decorated with tiny yellow fish. Occasionally, the shower curtain would come untucked, and the bottom end would flap around in the wind on the freeway. It was as if the station wagon was wearing a super hero cape.


And now it is 11:04 pm, and I officially feel like I can sleep.

If you made it to the bottom of this blog, you deserve a reward.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Diary of a chick trying to pursue this acting ordeal.

Pursuing acting is a complete adventure.

If it wasn't an adventure I don't think I'd be pursuing it. I'd probably be sitting in a cubicle somewhere trying to flirt with my boss on casual fridays, because let's face it...what else are you supposed to do if you work in a cubicle?

I read an article in Backstage West the other day, "10 Things I Wish I Would've Known Before Pursuing Acting." The 10th item was the fact that any actor has plenty of other talents and skills that they could be pursuing as a career, and that if you are pursuing acing, it should only be because you absolutely love it, and not because you believe that you have nothing else to offer.

So after reading the article and getting caught up in the "between show blues" (Peter Pan closed and rehearsals for "You Can't Take it With You" don't start until the end of August), I decided to have a nice, long, sit-down chat with my mom. My parents are bookkeepers and run their business from home, so if I'm ever in a financial bind, they're the first ones I turn to for advice. My mom's advice was simple and perfect. She asked me point blank, "Is this what you want to do with your life?" I responded, "Yes. Nothing else makes me happy the way this does." She simply told me, "If this is your dream, you pursue it, but you can't have regrets, and you can't get upset if you struggle with bills. You're doing things the unconventional way, so if this is what you want out of life, just always make sure you have these two things taken care of: Health insurance and your car. As long as you have a car to drive you to auditions, and health insurance, you'll be fine."

Shortly after this conversation, I made the call to my health insurance provider to make a payment on my plan....the conversation was shortly following by a mini-panic attack when they tried to charge me a $15 "missing the grace period almost late fee." Yeah, it's only 15 bucks, but my coffee hadn't kicked in yet, so they might as well have told me that they were charging me $100.

I had the day off today, so I decided to snag my first assignment from the company I'm writing for as a freelancer. I was stoked to pick a topic from the thousands of options available under the "work desk" portion of the website. As I scrolled through the options such as, "How to make your own set of bag pipes" and "how to lease a car in the Netherlands," I realized that I might not have the right amount of knowledge tucked away in my back pocket to write anything for ehow.com. Then I discovered a topic that I figured I could b.s. my way through, "How to find a person's screen name." I should have titled it, "How to stalk people online casually." I felt dirty just writing it. I mean, who knows what kind of people read this stuff. So I submitted the article, and the response from the editor went something like this, "Why can't the person just ask permission to receive the screen name instead of looking for it online?"

Gee....I don't know....why do you have dumb "how to's" listed on your website?
Speaking of which, the next topic I chose to write on (strictly because I can't pronounce half of the words in the other topics) is, "How to take apart a Furby." Don't judge. It was either this, or "How to make your own blow-up doll"...which would've been hilarious.

I don't know how well this whole freelance writing thing will work out...but I can tell you this...it's given me enough material in one day, to blog on it for the rest of the year.

As for everything else in life...it's pretty good. I LOVE my job at Universal and I'm eagerly waiting to kick-off "You Can't Take it With You," which will be the 6th show I've worked on in less than a year. I went to a casting workshop with the casting associate for LIE TO ME, and got to read for him...I felt like it went well. I have another workshop with the casting associate for PARENTHOOD and UNITED STATES OF TARA next week. I'm going into Week 4 of an acting class with instructor, Anthony Meindl...who is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING. All of the studio guides get to take classes taught by him for free, which has been a sweet deal.

It seems like lately, there's a lot of stress in the air, but when it comes down to it...the positive has been outweighing the negative, so I have nothing to complain about.

And I love my family with all my heart. They know I love what I do, and it would be so much more stress-free if I sucked it up and put my B.A. to use and had a career that I couldn't stand....and yes...we bicker and argue and stress out over it together, but when I'm really caught in a bind, they're here for me. No questions asked.

Friday, July 09, 2010

The Girl Who Wouldn't Grow Up...


I've been in rehearsals for PETER PAN for about the past month and a half. We have a preview night of the show tonight, and we open tomorrow. This weekend is a huge weekend for so many of us. For many of the kids, it's their first musical, which is extremely exciting. For many of the veterans, they're playing the part they've dreamed of, and it's a whole new adventure for them.

This past month and a half, we've all been living in this world of PAN. The world of "not growing up," and having that place that makes you young. Being immersed in this world for any amount of time, you start to keep yourself in check. You start to wonder if you grew up, or if you held on to that childish side that you know and love. My Neverland is theatre. It's always been that way. Whenever I feel like I'm growing up too fast or am not so sure of myself, theatre grounds me again.

My next adventure is to move to the Hollywood neck of the woods. It's a statement I've uttered many times, and it only remained pie in the sky. But I've been playing my cards right, and it is turning more and more into a reality. I was going through boxes of my stuff in the garage. Boxes full of trinkets collected from roommate adventures, old shot glasses and even the birthday pin from the legendary 21st birthday. Amongst the heap, I came up with a small box pull of disposable cameras. Cameras from high school that I originally forgot to develop. Then I continued to "forget" to develop them. Now a part of me just doesn't want to develop them. I almost want to hold those memories in those tiny cameras forever, because I know that as soon as I look at the developed photo, I will be holding the proof that I have grown up. A part of me doesn't want to look back, but I do whole-heartedly just want to enjoy every moment that life throws my way.

Preview night for PAN is tonight. I was added into a 2nd part in the show yesterday, that I am extremely excited about. I am playing Wendy Darling all grown up. Which is completely ironic since I have an embedded Peter Pan complex that I just can't shake. During the dress rehearsal last night, I stood on stage in a wig and nightgown that aged me significantly, and I waved goodbye as Jane and Peter flew out the window. It was a completely symbolic moment. I'm at a point in my life where I would be in complete denial if I didn't acknowledge the fact that the bills keep rolling in, and that society does in fact consider me a grownup. But it was in that moment last night, that I was able to accept the fact that I am a grownup, because I've stayed true to that childish side of me. And if 10-year old Erika were to run into me one day, I think she'd be proud.

Come on out and see PETER PAN this weekend or next weekend. Whether you're a grownup or a kid, the show will make you feel YOUNG AGAIN.
www.lewisfamilyplayhouse.com

Saturday, June 26, 2010

It will all work itself out...

Currently in this very moment....
This is what my world looks like.

I'm sitting on my un-made bed. On my left is a tattered copy of LA weekly opened to the "theatre reviews" section. To my right, is a camcorder that I haven't touched since I finished recording promos for RENT. In front of me is a sweaty unitard and my first pair of jazz shoes that I bought the other day. And I know it sounds pathetic...but I'm more proud of those jazz shoes then I am of my B.A. in journalism...because I NEVER....I mean NEVER, thought that I would be cast as a featured dancer in anything....and now I'm about to be a featured dancer in PETER PAN. After a morning thru afternoonish rehearsal I collapsed in my room.

Like many people my age, I continued to ask myself the same questions: What am I doing with my life? What is my plan? Am I including my friends in my life? Am I 100% happy? What can I change?

I ask myself these questions all the time. It never stops. I'm always trying to figure out the next step.

Here's where I'm at right now. Post-college I moved back home to save money. The plan was to stay home for 1 year, then move to LA or NEW YORK.....it all depended on if I magically got into the Equity union. Just over 2 years later, I'm still at home, and more broke then when I started.

How did that happen?
I got in a car accident (not my fault)= car payments on a used car....car payments that I never had to deal with before.
I graduated college= hellooooo student loans....
Aaaand, I actually have health insurance.

So the current plan is to move to LA in August.
Which is exhilarating...
And scary....
Does anyone ever really have the money to up and move? I don't think so....It might sound naive, but I'm at a point where my only focus is to just "go for it." If I fail, then I fail, but I'm going to stop letting my inner thoughts tell me that I won't make it if I up and move.

I'm proud of a couple things thus far....
1)I know what I love to do...and I make an effort to do it all the time. I'm working on my 5th show in less than a year, and to be honest, this IS what I love the most.

2) I'm completely unreasonable. I'm the most illogical person you'll ever meet. BUT at the same time....I'm always happy. Dreamers might be illogical, but we go for the things we want.

And that's it I guess for right now. I re-discovered my love of cheesy movies tonight. I sat down and watched "Dave," starring Kevin Klein, and I made a cran-pineapple martini that ended up being so tasty...that I had 3...maybe I missed my calling....maybe I should be bartending....

Monday, June 21, 2010

Credit Cards are Not Refillable Gift Cards...

I'm not one to stress too much.
Life is short. Don't worry. Be happy. We've heard that tune over and over again. Our lives should be focused on living...not on planning your life around paying the bills....

I'm not a complete failure when it comes to finances. It's simply been a strange string of events that have led me to where I am right now.

I had zero credit cards until just about up to college graduation. I figured if I wasn't charging things, I wouldn't be in trouble. Kind of true, however, I had failed to build up a line of credit.

That was me back then...I miss that girl. That girl who was scared shit-less of the credit card bill. That girl who treated credit card offers like envelopes filled with sin...and NOT the good kind.

That girl is long gone. If one more credit card company tempts me with a credit card offer, I might just have to bed it and wed it.

I currently have 3 credit cards, and I need to stop viewing them as refillable gift cards. I need to start doing those affirmations that people do in the movies. I need to start looking at myself in the mirror every morning, and write the following message to myself on the mirror with bold red lipstick: "Erika, paying a credit card bill is not the equivalent to transferring money into a magical checking account."
"Charging a latte to an almost maxed out credit card does not mean that your building your credit in a good way..."

And don't even get me started on student loans. I didn't even hang my B.A. certificate on the wall before the first loan bill rolled in. I take it back...I still haven't hung up my B.A....its still sitting on my bookcase nestled between a picture of John Lennon and Audrey Hepburn.

As I said before, you can't plan your entire life around the bills...after all...they never truly go away.

Here's some positive things that I HAVE learned about money:
Quarters are still considered money.
e-statements are a more non-confrontational way of receiving your monthly statements.
...
...
to be continued...

Monday, June 14, 2010

The Equivalent to a Literate Pansy





Lately I feel like I'm the equivalent to a literate pansy.
I graduated from CSUF with a B.A. in Broadcast Journalism 2 years ago...after which I VOWED that I would NEVER pursue a career remotely related to the horrors of broadcasting.

I chose to study Broadcast Journalism for 2 reasons and 2 reasons only....
The first word in the title is "Broadcast." So I translated that to meaning, "studying to be a pretty talking head on tv."

And that sounded like a fun way to go.

Reason #2: The 2nd word in the title was "Journalism" and I LOVED to write. About anything. One time back when I was taking a reporting class, we were asked to write an obituary on ourselves.....being unable to take almost anything in life too seriously....I titled my obituary: "The Death of my Sense of Fashion." I went on to explain that I dressed like a bohemian...and not the cool kind...etc etc etc.

After only a few courses down the road to my B.A. in Broadcast Journalism, I realized that I hated what I was studying. I didn't feel passionately about any of the subjects the way my peers did, and since I didn't feel that way, I felt like I was wasting my teacher's time. Why study something if you don't love it? The obvious answer to my problem would've been to change my major, but I was already on the 5-year-college-plan, and quite literally couldn't afford to change my major (again). I started off as a theatre/public speaking major....switched to entertainment studies.....and after TRYING to convince myself that I would lose interest in theatre post-college, I made the final switch into Broadcast Journalism.

It was at that point that I realized that I needed to study something I love...even if it was only on the side....
That's how I ended up minoring in Radio/TV/Film studies....and I LOVED it.

I never thought I'd say it, but since I graduated college, I miss writing all the time. I miss deadlines. I miss that kick in the ass that pushes you to write something you never thought you'd have to balls to write about. My ability to sit down at my laptop and make something out of nothing is slowly heading down the crapper. I tried to make my way through the book, "The Spiritual Guide to Gaining back Your Creativity," but I threw in the towel within a week. I don't know what happened. And DON'T get me wrong...I'm not going to be pursuing a careers as a reporter anytime soon. But I need to push myself to write more. Even if I think that I have nothing to say....or if I feel I don't have a story to tell....there's gotta still be something there.

I was watching "Sex and the City" the other day, and I realized how much I missed New York. No..I've never lived there...only visited....but the energy...everything that it stands for...it took me back to a time in my life where my only goal was to live in NYC, and do off-off-off-off broadway theatre and attempt to pay my bills on time. Maybe I didn't make it to NYC right away, but I love the fact that things didn't happen the way I planned. Even though I'm not in the location I thought I'd be, I'm still doing what I love....I still kept theatre in my life, and thank goodness I have an employer who is willing to pay me to talk about film and television. For those of you studying something you can't stand in college...keep your chin up....it doesn't have to set the path for what you're going to do for the rest of your life...

On a final note, I might've left my broadcasting days behind me, but the experience still brought me a few laughs...
Shortly after college I auditioned to be a reporter for a hip new webisode series that was going to cover anything up and coming....my "call-back" during the audition process was to do red-carpet interviews...at a porn convention...
Now I was excited to get all dressed up and be around the hype of the red-carpet...as for the interviews, I just had to wing it....at one point in the evening I was interviewing a 250 lb. porn star with bleach blonde hair and I was b.s.ing my way through the interview. I asked her for the name of her upcoming film, and she replied, "Wicked." Of course being the dork that I am, I immediately thought of "Wicked," the musical...so I leaped up in excitement and shouted, "That's so cool!" Of course she responded with, "Yeah, I'm pretty excited about it too....lots of girl on girl action." whoops.

Cheers folks.

"The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it." — J.M. Barrie

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Adventures with Short Round.

I got a new car last summer after totaling my old car in a accident.

Long story short, I ended up getting the cutest little jeep I could find, and I lovingly named him Short Round...after the adorable asian kid in the "The Temple of Doom." In case people didn't put it together that Short Round is an Indiana Jones reference, I spent the first month driving the car blaring the Indiana Jones soundtrack out my window. I almost went as far as to get an Indy hat just to wear while driving Short Round....looking back on it, I must've looked sort of foolish. You see, me driving around blaring indiana jones music out of my car means absolutely nothing to the people driving around me, because:
A) I didn't take into consideration the fact that I did not tell the people in the cars around me that my car is named, "short round."
b) I thought i'd have a "b" but apparently I don't.

So maybe I'm the only one who appreciates the fact that the car is named Short Round, but it's ok. We've almost been together a year, and we've had some good times.

I've been driving a lot more lately, and I've realized that my imagination completely gets the best of me when I drive. I have figured out that Short Round is either lucky or cursed. Yesterday while driving on the freeway, we were hit with a surprise bird attack who was in the mood for a #2...wait...did I say one attack? I meant 2.
Yes...2 attacks back to back....2 different birds.
At first I was annoyed...but then I thought, "what are the odds? Out of all the cars on the freeway, we just happened to get hit twice."
It HAS to be lucky. It just has to be.

I use my navigator to go EVERYWHERE because I have ZERO sense of direction. I decided to go without my navigator tonight as I pulled off the freeway to get gas.
I got lost.
I ended up near Griffith Park and it was pitch black and I kept seeing horse trails everywhere I went...then I randomely drove by a collection of old trains. It was incredible. I wanted to keep driving in the wrong direction to see what else there was, but realized that in that moment, if my life were a movie, i was quickly approaching the rape scene. It was just too dark and creepy and there were no other cars around.

Speaking of creepy, as I drove home tonight I realized that I could see my reflection...in my sideview mirror...on the passenger side....wait...that's not right....
I immediately thought of the movie, "Urband Legend," and started thinking, "what if some guy jumped in my car when I was at that gas station, and now he's waiting until I'm all the way out in rancho cucamonga before he makes his move?"
Then it dawned on me that the Urband Legend story was in no way related to my situation. My sideview mirror was completely bent inward.
Did I side-swipe a building today and not realize it?
Did someone hit my car and maybe didn't have a pen to write a note?
I finally got home, looked at the mirror, and remembered that the side view mirrors tuck in so that they won't get hit. Of course, I forgot that minor detail today.

And now I'm rambling on. Soooo tired. Time to sleep.

Sunday, April 04, 2010

Easter.

Woke up at 6am.
Which I pushed to 6:30...
Then pushed to 6:40.
Finally woke up to a right eye that didn't want to open.
I mean quite literally did not want to open. I lost my ointment that temporarily treats my alleged case of "corneal dystrophy," and since I haven't hauled myself over to CVS lately, the consequence is only being able to painlessly open one eye in the morning.

Helped mom clean the house.
More like she cleaned and I pretended to clean until my coffee kicked in.

The coffee never kicked in.
Neither did the green tea.
Redbull could've been an option but I tried to convince myself that it's bad for my heart, then decided "waste of money" is a better excuse. The real reason I didn't end up with a redbull was because to be honest, I had a shaky hand when applying my eyeliner, and had to redo it, causing me to run out the door late.

Had to work on Easter. Only for a couple hours, and for the most part it was fine. Busy...but fine. The best part about working on holidays, is that when people upset you, you get to have thoughts like, "Well, I'd stop complaining if I were you because at least you're out with your family and instead I'm working on a holiday and having to deal with you."

You see, when you're not working on a holiday, you get to have the same thoughts, but you can't add the phrase, "working on a holiday."
"Working on a holiday" makes it SO much more dramatic.
Moving on.

Got home.
Ate like a frickin' pig. Which is fine, since you're allowed to throw all rules out the window on a holiday. I only worry about my eating habits yesterday....at PF Changs...somewhere in the world, it had to be a holiday yesterday...right? Just so that I can justify my obscene display of eating that took place?

Moving on.

My brother and I never grew out of easter egg hunts. Something about the idea of running around the yard searching for things...anything...has always been appealing. This year, my little cousin elected himself to be the official "hider of the eggs"...only this year, he hid beer cans and plastic eggs filled with vouchers to be redeemed for mini Sailor Jerry's and Jose. So there we were....A kid in junior high watching excitedly as his master plan unfolded in the yard...while a bunch of grown kids ran around the yard scooping beer cans out of trees and bushes.

It was fantastic.

Monday, March 29, 2010

Diary of a Receptionist

****Found in the depths of my google docs profile from the last time I had a receptionist gig****circa early 2009

I've almost hit the 5-month mark as a receptionist.
It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Trust me, never ever, not once when I was a kid, did I ever utter the words, "When I grow up, I want to be a receptionist." It is not what I wanted to grow up to be, and to be quite frank, I don't even consider myself to "be" a receptionist.

I'm an actor/writer trying to make it in L.A. (Aren't we all?) Isn't every receptionist in L.A. secretly air-brushing their headshots on photoshop while they answer phones? Aren't all receptionists writing spec scripts as they pretend that they're putting in a supply order for their boss? The receptionist job is the job for dreamers, at least, that's how I have to see it for now.

Here's why I am in the position that I'm in.

I could easily blame it on the recession. Before the recession, things were going ok. I was living the actor dream. Was I landing big roles and being exploited on the cover of US weekly? No, but in the world of "starving amateur actors" I was doing alright. I had an agent. He never got me one audition, but I had one, and that was enough to justify me quitting my full-time job. It was a start. I had headshots. Sure, I would have to get veneers and stand in front of a fan during an audition to look like my headshots, but there you go. I was in a short film that was heading down the festival circuit. That alone sounds good. I don't need to mention that my performance in it makes me cringe when I watch it. Saying I was any good in it is the equivalent of saying that Julia Roberts knows how to play someone other than herself. All the same things were fine, but not where money was concerned. I was making a living by critiquing screenplays. I was making a whopping $10/script, but I kept the gig because it was flexible and also the only job I could find right away. I would pound through 5 scripts a day. I could be found dragging myself through hours of poor grammar choices, only to push myself into the world of characters that were under-developed and all on only one cup of coffee. I was lucky to land a part-time job working for Radio Disney, but alas, the money wasn't there and the economy was continuing to go through her raging case of p.m.s. and self-esteem issues. It was at this point that my bills weren't getting paid, and that my dream of somehow being able to live in NYC seemed farther away. It was time to suck it up and get a full-time job.

That's how I became a receptionist.

Some people my age are on the path they want to pursue. Others are doing odd jobs to pay the bills so that they can do what they love on the side. Right now I'm the receptionist who cakes on lipstick hoping that the next person who walks in the lobby will discover me. kidding. The truth is, life completely overwhelms me. The whole concept is completely exciting and I don't know how people are able to stay so focused on what they want to do with their life. There are so many possibilities out there. I could take a fencing class and learn how to be a proper pirate. I could take out a loan and travel around Spain. I could learn a new language via podcasts. All of these opportunities. All of these things that life has to offer. My inability to focus has caused me to not do any of these things. (Except re-learn German via podcast.) I guess all I can do is take it one step at a time.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

i wish that were me.

I hit a landmark year.
25....
which means 2 things.
I can rent a car.
I can also start "accidentally lying about my age" and have it viewed as being ok by society.
Age is just a number right? That's my new motto...it's also the motto of most 18-year-old boys who are chasing after the 25-year-old erika's of the world.
Turning a new age always makes me think. It's another excuse to take inventory of myself and find the things that need to be fixed because let's face it...if you're not improving...what are you doing?

Here's me as of now:

I don't open my mail. I have too much faith in the internet and figure that all my bill payment info that I ever need to know about is resting someplace in cyberland, so there is no need for me to open my mail. All the same, I never throw my mail out. I'm petrified there's an account number on the piece of unopened mail that someone will run across and steal my identity.

My tendency to be "an open book" is NOT a clear example that I am a confident person. I'm starting to realize that I am the most insecure person I know. I'll tell you more than you want to hear to make you think I'm completely extroverted. To be honest, I'm shy as hell.

I am the perfect example of a "Google society." I can tell you how to become a yoga instructor, what your name means in the urban dictionary, how to find vile shaped shot glasses or how to earn a Master's Degree in Ireland...but I can barely remember to do my laundry.

I drink too much water. It sounds like a good thing, but it's a curse when your body wakes you up at 3am every morning to down another bottle.

I have an irrational fear of possums.

I loathe the fact that restaurants now list the amount of calories for each item. It makes you look like an ass in front of your friends. If I order the 1,000 calorie nachos instead of a salad, then I'm the idiotic friend who doesn't care and ordered the 1,000 calorie nachos. If I mention that the nachos contain 1,000 calories, then I'm the friend who worries too much about my weight. Lose/lose situation.

Starbucks drive-thru tip jars make me nervous. I never carry cash. Therefore, I can never tip. I guess it goes the same if I ordered inside rather than in the drive-thru, but staring at that lonely tip jar alone on the outside counter makes me feel more sorry for it.

Sometimes I wake up and look in the mirror and I love my nose. I love my weird nose and how it fits on my face. Other mornings I hate it. Is there such thing as temporary plastic surgery? Just for the days that my nose bugs me? Don't get me wrong, I don't want permanent plastic surgery, but once in a blue moon on those "bad nose" days would be nice.

I always forget to tweeze my eyebrows.

I give in easily to peer pressure. If the lemmings jump off the cliff I'm not only following, but I probably posted a status update on facebook saying how proud I am that I'm following.

I've become a pro at streaming free tv online. I could tell you where to find everything from a new episode of "Big Bang Theory," to the original "Dawson's Creek" series.

I've just realized that I have not come up with a way to improve upon myself, but listing some of your weird flaws/habits has to be a good start...it just has to be.

Sunday, March 07, 2010

Brain Constipation.

It's exactly 1:23 a.m. I vowed that I would be sleeping already so that I would be ready for the 12:30 call-time in the morning, but alas, still awake. My brain is completely constipated. It's backed up with a story or rant, and I feel like there's a synapse somewhere that is misfiring because I can't for the life of me tell you what the story is...I just know that it's there...somewhere. So I'm going to tap away at this keyboard until something, anything comes out so that I can feel at peace and finally get some sleep.

I guess I can tell you about my day.

I woke up at 11 a.m. which is absurd for me. I can't sleep in without feeling guilty. I managed to roll out of bed and throw on a pair of shorts and a tank top. I must add that it was pouring down rain when I awoke, so I had already started the day off on a weird note.

Woke up starving and acutely aware that there was no food in the house. Finding no way to justify having a beer for breakfast, I treated my brother to breakfast.

Fell asleep watching Saw III, which upsets me because I have actually been meaning to catch up on my Saw flix.

Drove in the rain and realized that my Jeep is still leaking when it pours. The plastic casing around my ceiling lights filled up with water and leaked all over the dash board. It was a water ride in the front seat of my car today. I probably won't take my car in to get it fixed...not because I don't want to spend the money, because to be honest, do you know anyone who gets rained on while driving their car? I thought not. Now I can be that person for you.

Thursday, January 07, 2010

RENT


RENT.
The first time I saw the show was on Broadway. I remember when the show was over, I felt completely overwhelmed. I couldn't even get out of my seat. It was as if everyone in the theatre had experienced something so emotionally powerful, that we all just needed a minute to breathe.
After RENT closed on Broadway, my friends and I ended up at our local movie theatre to watch the taping of the final performance.
And when RENT made its way over to the Pantages, I was there closing night.
It is quite obvious that RENT is one of my favorite shows, so when I found out that it was making its way over to the Lewis Family Playhouse, right in my own backyard, I was stoked.

RENT will open at the Lewis Family Playhouse in March, and it will be directed by Ron Kellum & Courtney Corey. And if ya wanna see a bad ass portrayal of Maureen, please youtube Courtney Corey.
I was beyond grateful when I was asked to assist with the audition process, as the directors scoped out talent in both L.A. and Rancho. It wasn't just the voices that I heard that was magic, it was the essence of the people who showed up to the auditions. The show hasn't been cast yet, but it was amazing to see all of these people embrace the meaning of the show.

I know what it's like to be in the shoes of a person auditioning. It can be stressful and emotionally exhausting. You keep telling yourself to just have fun and go for it, and the other half of you is scared shitless and suddenly feeling self-conscious. You overanalyze everything that is said to you, and you feel like you're on a reality dating show. Been there done that. And even if that is what these actors were feeling on the inside, they exuded something completely different to me. I couldn't get over how completely supportive everyone was of each other. There was no nasty gossiping or trying to psyche each other out right before they had to go in and sing. Everyone seemed to have a buddy system. If one actor was M.I.A., another actor not only knew where he/she was, but would take the time to tell me so he wouldn't miss his turn to sing. At the beginning of the call-back process, the original plan was to have the Marks and Rogers sing last, so all of those guys knew that they had a long night ahead of them. When plans switched around, and the Rogers were called earlier, everyone in the holding room literally cheered for them. Everyone was a team, and everyone was in it together. A couple people even gave me a hug before they left and thanked me for sticking it out with them through the process. I can't wait to see how everything comes together.

Tuesday, January 05, 2010


2010.
I'm only 5 days in, and so far so good.
People at work keep asking me what my New Year's Resolutions are, and I told them that I didn't make any this year. Whenever I say this, I receive a look of pity. People who don't know me well assume that I'm an underachiever completely content to stay exactly the same year after year.
Here's my theory behind New Year's Resolutions: We are excited to make them, but unwilling to keep them. I figure if I don't make them, I am more likely to accomplish more this year.

Christmas with the family was fantastic. We parked our butts on the couch all day and watched old movies, and I couldn't ask for anything more. Our family gift exchange was extremely simple this year. We each got each other one or two gifts. When I opened the present from my parents, I couldn't help but cry. It was a delicate silver bracelet, and on it read, "Live the Life You Love." My mom started crying and even my dad was tearing up. My mom explained that my dad had seen it in a catalogue months ago, and knew that it was the perfect gift. It wasn't the bracelet that was so touching. It was the fact that my parents are behind me 100%. I spent 5 years in college studying something that I have no intention of pursuing, only to take my B.A. and work in a restaurant...just so that I could have a flexible schedule to do what I really love...theatre. There have been numerous moments where my parents could've easily said, "Life would be easier if you used your degree and got a full-time job." Instead, they get nervous every time I attempt to apply for something that will tie me down, at the risk of not having time for theatre. If "Live the life you love" was a movement, my parents are the strongest supporters I know.

In other news, I went for a run exactly 2 days ago. To anyone who knows me, this is an exceptional accomplishment for me. I don't do runs. I've tried to enjoy them, but to no avail. I wasn't running because I needed to get anger out of my system. I wasn't running because of the holiday weight I had deliciously gained. I just remember putting in my ear plugs, and tugging my dobermin Luke out the front door. A Beatles tune blasted on my earphones, and something about the lyrics, the air, the scenery...I was running...no...sprinting down the street. I ran like a serial killer was on my tail. I was actually outrunning the dog. I felt so happy was actually skipping/dancing at one point. I woke up the next day to a surging pain of defeat in both of my legs, but it was still worth it.

I went to bed last night with the odd feeling that a cold was overcoming me. I wrote it off as allergies, since I haven't had a cold in years. As strange as it sounds, I was relieved to find that I did wake up with a small cold. Nothing horrendous. No coughing fits or sinus infections. But still a cold nonetheless. I guess I'm not wonder woman after all, which I must admit is kind of a relief. I'm now taking the time to tackle the stack of library books I picked up, and also spending some quality time with crunch-bite.