Paid to Do What?

Amazing it is. How sitting around doing nothing but that & occasionally clapping can leave you so physically and psychically drained. Empty even.

Luckily I'm paid for it. Unfortunately I found out sitting next to a girl [in hideous jeans from 1998 that attempted to echo those of 1981 bleach stains, awkward waist line & all who obviously didn't get the 'business casual, bright colors' memo in her too tight black shirt nor the 'those jeans didn't work the first time before we were born don't try them on now' memo.] that she was being paid $10/hour compared to my measly $8.

Great.

Especially since I am booked to repeat my appearance in the audience of a [non disclosed reality dance show I can't name or talk about specifically] or I'll be sued for all of the nothing I currently have in the bank since I didn't have the chance to deposit the $48 cash I walked away with after standing in the cold  for 45 unpaid minutes. 

But hey, if I find just one more dollar I can fill up my gas tank. Like ALL the way. 

Now. if only i had had a camera yesterday, I could have taken some very disheartening yet possibly artistic pictures of us audience members sitting on the curb waiting to be ushered in past the port-a-potties (from where you could see the real bathrooms) into our seats where we would remain for 6 unmoving hours. And then again lined up like studio streetwalkers waiting to be cashed out. A Hollywood exhibit in the waiting for any photographer better than I. Which most are.

And my final comment on being paid to do nothing [which most in these hard times would love to find anything let alone nothing that pays & yes I appreciate the income, however would rather be mucking out horse shit] is...

The audience fluffer - and yes I use that word specifically because he... wait for it... blows. 

For example (and I have many although the stupidity & generalness of his comedy & comments tend to blur themselves together into simple hatred): I don't think you're supposed to make overtly racist comments and attempt to play them off as funny (by talking fast after saying it) when they aren't and then get in a fight with an asian audience member who stereotypically probably has a higher IQ than you despite the fact she's working for $8 an hour doing nothing and not becoming a doctor or a violinist. 

Now. If the joke had been funny I almost guarantee no fight would have occurred. Because laughter fixes everything. But he's not funny and I'm not going to see your show at the Comedy Store even if you give me free tickets. Because $8/hour is already not enough to listen to you make a fool of yourself. 

And Scene.

Still searching the streets of Hollywood for a job to pay the rent... not sure how much longer nothing is going to keep paying.

Constant Needed Change Prescribed

sometimes it's necessary to go a long distance out of the way in order to come back a short distance correctly.

this line from the edward albee play 'zoo story' has been my subhead line title for, well since forever [forever meaning the life existence of this collection of noted moments].

I have gone a long distance several times over the last few years. and i have returned a short distance. correctly. is the portion i am not too sure about. Rarely, i suppose anyone is. I'm actually sure i haven't. perhaps that's why being in this place all the time without hope of transfer until the end of 2010 causes my stomach to hurt. Everyday. Or maybe i've just developed an aversion to lactose. that would truly be the end of me.

i do not wish to start a new blog. i wish to change what i use this one for. as i've said i am here. in los angeles for minimum 10 more months maximum undetermined. unquantifiable.thusly i am no longer an active itinerant.

There are 3 things I love in life.

[actually there are a lot of things i love in life]

These 3 are potentially writable.

Film.

Theatre.

Fashion.

Comments on what I see & experience alongside that which I attempt to do myself. Sprinkled of course with the needed moments of note that I find distracting me from what I love to do. to be.

i crave change and now i create it. for me. for you.

soon.

Scotty

"All life is just a progression toward, and then a recession from, one phrase, 'I love you.' "

once you say it. do you automatically begin receding. attaining that moment of purity that can only come in the exclamation (loud or otherwise) of this sentiment (when true) creates a moment that cannot be recreated until your next opportunity to share it with someone else you've never said it to before. the desire for that moment defeats the purpose of the sentiment overall, since you can only have it once a person.

the build up. that moment. endorphins & butterflies unwielding. once. prolonged indefinitely still comes to an end. with three words. opening new worlds. new feelings. one hopes. never for recession.

they say your body grows until approximately the age of 25, then it begins to die.

Meaning 'i love you' is the 25 of two people.

24 & in love.

death becomes us.

it seems.

[looking at her schedule]

not today.

Mung Beans Multiply

Home I am. Original Home.

I was about to say it was my first time traveling in a while but that would not be true. Since my 6 week whirlwind at the O'Neill, I have visited NYC twice (once directly after and once in October following a whirlwind romance), and popped my Las Vegas cherry in a 24 hour trip in November to see the Pacquiao/Cotto fight @ MGM. Perhaps traveling has become so typical it no longer registers as different than not. However. I've started to get antsy...looking for another whirlwind to carry me away.

But soon I've decided it cannot be. I have to stay. I have to settle. Somewhere. For once. I have to see what grows when my roots aren't being torn up every 6 months (or less). So. I'm only applying for winds that pick up in December.

I am home for two reasons.

1 - My grandmother has turned 88. Born January 28, 1922. Hopefully it means I have a lot of life ahead of me. She has a long story of strength & sadness. Luckily the strength is turning 88 too, while the sadness died long ago. (or so it seems, I clearly have no direct insight into her psyche, but she's never appeared sad to me. only spry. and strong.)

2 - To speak at the benefit for the Bellevue Youth Theatre where I was raised (more or less). I was asked because, apparently, I am "successful". I find this word quite hard to come to terms with. I, myself, would look at me and say. Not successful. But that is based entirely upon what I define the word as. Unfortunately the first thing that comes to my mind is money. Which I do not have. My bank accounts currently hold a combined value of $34.47. Success to me, also unfortunately, means notoriety. Being known in your field. For your work and contribution. My hold here is if given a monetary value would be fairly equivalent to my financial holdings. The quality would be next. And yes, I will give a point or two my way for that. But "successful" enough to fly home and speak to a crowd paying $150 a plate about how my experiences at BYT led me to my success?

I WAS GONNA BE A DOCTOR.

I was going to be a doctor until I was 16 years old and was given my first lead. Doris Walker in the musical version of A Miracle on 34th Street. Weeks of rehearsal and the night before opening the director walks up to me and places his hand on my shoulder, in an almost father like gesture, and said,

"You are a cold. dead. fish. Figure it out or you're going to ruin the show."

That night, a chilly, wet (having rained but not currently raining), lonely night I sat on a swing in a nearby park and cried.

And by the time I left, I had figured it out.

And there went my medical career.

That I'd been planning since the age of 6 when I gave up on paleontology after discovering the Brontosaurs no longer existed.

Since 16. I haven't stopped figuring it out. And I'll never want to.

Explained:

The feeling of figuring out how to create an artistic moment that breaches time/space and crosses into our reality for that moment without really existing as either you or the other while allowing them (the audience) to experience it too, is worth every rejection, every unpaid bill, every person who doesn't know your name. It may not be saving lives in the literal sense but it does something that has lasted just as long as us. You diagnose the flu once, more or less figuring it out will be the same every time. But to figure out how to fix the colddeadfish (or other like) flues we run into, the diagnosis & treatment will never be the same. And I love that.

I love it.

Maybe that's success.

Knowing what you want to do and doing it, no matter who knows who you are nor how much money you make.

As long as I am happy, I am a success.

....

Yeah.

Right.

.....

But. That's not stopping me from doing it everyday.

So maybe it is.

I'll go ask Grandma.