A note on “Oopsies!” And other modes of embarrassment

27 Sep

This is what one gets for reading David Sedaris past bedtime and feeling huffy. Luckily I never had my pants pulled down to my ankles in the middle school Courtyard, but now I can at least relate.

Normally if I were to rant nonsensically, it would be on the street corner with a donations cup present or it would at least be very well written. This is what pains me the most about the previous post that was accidentally thrust into the public domain, I should have at least employed one of those measures!

Long story short, said post (which has since been deleted), was meant for a private blog of mine which is a combination of character sketches, short stories and personal musings strictly with no audience. It is a lose weave between fiction and a dramatization of true life events, kinda like what you might see on a crummy crime show reenactment.

I suppose every writer needs their verbal underwear hung out at one point so that the power of the internet can come crashing down on them and rake them flailing into the ocean and leave the residue of respect in their matted, seaweeded hair (see dramatization really is just in my nature). One click, and dear friends and upright citizens of the world are emailed on my behalf with no par for recourse… Yikes! Power realized!

All in all, incase you were slightly concerned that I am on drugs, the answer is no (at least not often) and as far as I know I haven’t developed early onset dementia (though considering the poor quality of my health insurance, the jury is still out on that one). I’m quite apologetic that I may have hoisted upon you such an unpolished piece of unfiltered rant but please don’t take it, or me, too seriously. I am most sorry to anyone I may have offended or caused concern, it was a private head fantasy meant for no audience. There is an embarrassingly little amount of true drama to report so besides my brain (which is often unruly) and throbbing embarrassment, I am surprisingly well.

On the bright side I must say, at least my last name isn’t Wiener! Hooray!

Working Elusions of Grandeur

3 Jun

Oh God, well. Yes, I’ve been gone from the particular internet interface for a few months and instead writing moodily in my diary but I guess better late than never applies to blogging as well.

I appreciate positive feedback, in a rather pathetic way, though I’m working on not giving a fuc* (see not quite there yet, but close!) a little more often. So, here I am despite irritating personal advices that I invariably receive from beloved non-strangers concerning my writing temperament, exaggerated opinions and potentially poor life decisions (part of the reason I’ve been so unenthused about it lately too, ‘spose). Not to mention my talented ability to harass my own ego.

Also, I got this horrid thing called a real job. It requires heaps of time, thinking, making marginal amounts of money, seemingly stressful decision making, and sometimes people getting upset at me, and honestly(!) I have my feelings hurt enough getting honked at in traffic. It’s at an MMA gym at which I have been training Brazilian Jui Jitsu since moving to LA (…) and have a variety of ties (vaguely speaking). However, in ways it is exactly what I was looking for because since graduation I have a very real sense of anxiety about being a very old Los Angeles diner waitress/dis-inspiring actress and I’m really rather fragile. Plus I am learning some pretty neat-o things so I shan’t complain more than I already have in the last paragraph.

Furthermore, I’ve been acting. Nothing fancy, but stuff. Real live stuff! Music videos, short movies, and directors reels, mostly (also exclusively), but crazy thing is I’ve actually been booking them all by myself, like a really good ratio of them. And sometimes they pay me. I go in, shake a hand, I enunciate almost all of my words, sometimes I say something suave, and then I act. I feel emotions and sometimes impress people. I’ve booked work where I’ve had my lover die, grown tired of my lover and I am just smitten to dickens with my lover. I’ve played an alter-ego, “a rich girl driving a Mercedes G wagon” in a tube top (seriously though that was the character description), and a woman who is in love with beards, but not the people who inhabit them. I’m kinda good. I even cried repeatedly on cue and had the director refer to me as “an actress of your caliber” in a personal thank you letter, post-production. I mean that’s practically like the worlds most miniature Oscar (as you may have noticed I frequent between the states of painful self deprecation and elusions of grandeur). And while I have you here, I’ve let you know another thing! I’ve had TWO referrals from projects I worked on last month. Although one was for an “erotic romance horror movie” which unless its a movie about adorably horny teething piranhas, sounds an awful lot like porn…. ahh Hollywood :]. Don’t worry, I declined!!!

I’m allergic to piranhas.

Peace and plants,


Ventures in Panama

11 Feb

I decided to go to Panama because I didn’t have any good reasons not to.
Worrying about life is a really pointless yet still consuming American past time and sometimes a little escapism lends itself well to perspective.

I had the opportunity to go with a group from my Brazilian Jui Jitsu gym which, surprise, Ive been training at since October. I’m pretty deep into it, but that’s another story.

Anyways, a week ago I packed my passport and my Gi (one of those fancy fighting robes) and loaded a plane for Panama City. We took off and hearing the announcements in another language released me. I, like others of my species, have a tendency to get caught up in our own private worlds. Boarding a plane with a bunch of strangers, bound for a country that doesn’t know of your existence is pretty freeing. Also, I don’t know that many people in LA and if there is a way to meet cool people, I figured this was it.

The airport in Panama was smaller than a lot of second homes. We passed through customs and no one was confiscated, though it dawned on me that I was the only female. Not terribly shocking as most of Brazilian Jui Jitsu is either dudes or really tough girls so I wasn’t going to complain. We passed out the airport doors into the warm blanket of a Panamanian night. Our hosts, more guys, handed out “Balboas” a local beer, and Pipa, coconut water a damn tasty post flight combination.

We drove up to Panama City in a couple of cars, everything already oozing of laid back vibes. A two lane highway suspended thirty feet above the ground winded through the city like the Disney ride and I grinned from new discovery.
We got dropped off at our hotel and were told to meet back in the lobby in 15 minutes. It felt great not to make any decisions. Stepping outside the lobby I inhaled the sweet pungent odors of tropical streets. Parrots gossiped excitedly in large banyon like trees. Instead of feeling planted like most cities Panama has the distinct feeling of a city existing in a rainforest, albeit there is a lot more city than rainforest at this point. The canopies of the trees sprawled over the streets with dis abandonment as their roots emerged from cracks in the sidewalk like the large brazen worms from the horrible 80s movie, Tremors. I’ve always been comforted to see mother nature putting up a good fight against a manmade world, she always does so with great amounts of patience.

We made our way to the home of one of our hosts, Stephen, where some friends and dogs (redundant I know) waited us with fresh ceviche. We were staying in the middle of down town but funky little restaurants and grass lots still linger in the neighborhood. From the house we walked to a casino where we watched an MMA fight that was apparently a pretty big deal. This is definitely a new world for me and I am always amused and glad to be in surprising new environments. The mellowness of good Brazilian Jui Jitsu fighters is pretty surprising. Self deprecating humor and gentle persona seem to come along with the territory. I suppose taking the time to do something difficult and being willing to be bad at it for awhile is good for the ego. At least I hope so.



The closest I will get to my very own people’s choice award… This year.

15 Jan



14 Jan

I’m going to pretend that you’ve noticed that I haven’t written in awhile. I’ll save you excuses if you just agree to excuse me. Perfect. I adore that you can’t talk back. Directly at least.

So, to get you quickly up to speed, Guillaume and I broke up after 5 and a half years of togetherness. Guillaume moved out. I went to Florida. I got rejected by the manager I really really really wanted (gently rejected at least). I got invited to do level 2 at Groundlings. I went to Las Vegas. I went camping in Santa Barbara. I went on some auditions. I felt pretty freaked out about the general direction of my life on a few occasions. I got “retired” from 10 best because of the break up. I went to The Peoples Choice Awards. I am now looking to move. Some other stuff too, but I think one of us having a mild anxiety attack about all this change is quiet sufficient. Plus, I almost forgot, the rest of the world! I mean really, a lot is always going on out there and it’s sometimes quite a lot to take in.

Now that I’ve introduced some of these themes to you I will divulge some detail. So, me and Guillaume = splitsville. Although I was the instigator it was as much as a surprise to me as it was to every other party. We had a really sweet and cozy relationship but I started growing in a different direction and I realized I liked that direction, and that part of myself. There really isn’t an accurate way to explain these kinda of feelings without sounding too cold or too emotional so I’ll refrain from breathing any more artificial life into them There were relatively few tantrums and finger pointing pointing which, I think serves as a reminder of the success our relationship was and is. He has been my friend and partner over the last five years and despite breaking up I still hold him in really high regard because frankly, he’s an awesome person. Despite doing our best to be zen adults, nostalgia, I think is the greatest battle. The idea that you are moving on from a place that holds a lot of fond memories and the idea that you will stop knowing the thoughts and actions of this person that you have grown to know so intimately. I guess that’s the ying and yang of love though. Life seems to have a way of balancing itself out.

Anyways. I’m not sure if there is anything zen or some giant conclusion I can come up with other than life is short. Despite being quite often petrified of the unknown, I’ve never let that stop me, for better or for worse. So there’s that. And all the changes and discoveries that come with extracting your immeshed life from another persons. Your belongings, your identity, your collective goals, your bills, your dog, your feelings, your sense of direction.

In other news. I was in Las Vegas for my friends 25th birthday and had a most fabulous time. Despite having always thought Las Vegas was a dreadful place. I wrote about that venture in my very last publication at 10 best, which ended up ‘retiring’ me on account of my writing perspective no longer being “marketable” in my new found singledom. Blah. Ah well, frankly, if this is something I want to roll with I need to have my own voice anyways.

In other dire and drab news, I also turned down from the manager that I had gushed about a number of times. The good news though, it was a close game. I did the interview and I did quite well at it, she gave me a sturdy chunk of time which in the world of constantly feeling devalued as an actor makes you feel like a real-live-human being. She was honest with me from the get-go and said that this would be an inconvenient time to take on new, undeveloped talent as pilot season (January- March). It is the busiest time for working actors and their managers as that’s when all of next years pilot TV shows are being cast. And like I said, most of her clients are kinda big deals, and the ones that aren’t already in TV shows, she’s obligated as a good manager, to be spending all of her time to try and put in shows. And despite the wildly inaccurate voice in my head that sometimes tells me everything I want to hear, I’m not exactly ready to be staring in my own TV show, yet. She took a couple days to make the decision and said she thought I was really great and might be interested in meeting with me after pilot season which not only speaks about her legitimacy as a good manager but also her good sense.

In the meantime, it means I am back to square one in a variety of places in my life. The silver lining though, is knowing I have done it before and will do it even better this time because now I know just a little bit more. I figure, it’s not just the“facts of life” that count, it’s more about your experience and wisdom and growing as a person; rising up to handle new challenges better than I would have before. That said, I’m pretty terrified and pretty excited to build myself back up, better than before.

Oh, and because I know that you didn’t really care about anything that just went on in that last paragraph, The People’s Choice Awards were fun. I went with a friend that got tickets from a friend. I got dressed up and sat in the mezzanine and watched lots of stars collect awards. Is it strange that it brings me a sense of comfort that ‘the people’ have terrible taste?

Waiting in the hollyWoods.

27 Nov

One big fat fact of show biz, I’ve learned, is waiting. It’s become one of the very most significant features of my current life.

You have to wait to get auditions, wait in traffic on your way to your audition and wait at your audition. Then, you have to wait to hear back. Maybe you book it, and have to wait for the shoot date. When you get to the set you have to wait for your scene and wait for the the director to empty his memory card in the middle of your scene. Then you have to wait for the footage.

Yes there is stuff you can do between all the waiting, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are still waiting. It’s like being busy filing your nails in the grocery store line, or even reading a pretty intriguing magazine article in the doctors office, but still there is a little voice throwing verbal rocks at the back of your skull because your bleepin sick of waiting.

You also have to wait to find managers and agents.. You have to wait and see if they’ll respond to your gentle pestering. You have to wait to meet with them (…yes). When you do get an appointment to meet with them two months later, you’ll probably have to wait for them at lunch because they are important: and are allowed to be running late. After you meet with them, you have to wait for the answer. You have to wait to meet their list of demands (i.e. get better headshots, shrink two inches).

I know you’ve been waiting for the list of waiting to end for awhile now, and well, lucky for you, your wait has paid off. Now keep your fingers crossed for me !!


Sunday Drum Circle on Venice Beach

21 Nov


The best part is the game between the police and the wild dancing heathens (I’ll let you guess which category I fall into) that starts up at sunset when it’s time to disband. Police start their sirens. Drive a little closer. Drummers start up in a beat in synch with the sirens. The dancing gets even more intense. The police drive a little
closer and “woot” their sirens a few more time. The heathens take this opportunity to dance in the police car headlights and start a new beat to match the “woots”. I think despite everyone’s airs, it’s the most symbiotic relationship between police and dancing hippies I have ever seen. Everyone seems to enjoy the ritual, the healthy version of checks and balances.