DRUG BUSTED

I am sitting in my car, eating salad, because I had rehearsal with my scene partner before class and now I need to eat before I go to class, and I’m just sitting here, minding my own business, when a cop car pulls up next to me with two cops inside and they stare at the house I am parked in front of. Then another cop car pulls up alongside them and they chat, and they both stare at the house. The house does nothing. No movement, no flutter at a window, nothing. And I’m looking at the cops and back to the house, and back and forth and wondering: what is going on here? But they both pull away and I go back to my salad. And then the first one returns. And parks. And two cops get out. In plain clothes but with visible badges and guns in holsters and they are fully checking this house out! The house still does nothing. Obviously playing it cool. But I figure it’s a Vice bust and I start my car and drive away `cause there is no way I am getting in the middle of a bust by Vice. And because I am too lazy to check the police blotter we will never know what that was.

How Fat am I

There is a break between what kind of fat I am and what my agent thinks what kind of fat I am. She thinks I am "fat". which is sort of true. I am fat- but not "funny fat"- if you catch my drift. "Funny fat" is the kind of fat that is visually funny- the kind that is an inherent joke just from being looked at. Like Chris Farley. Funny fat. I am not inherently funny to look at and although I can get a lot of mileage out of eating jokes, I still can't get cast as the visual punchline to a skinny counter-part. I'm not Laurel to someone else's Hardy. Or whatever, I don't honestly know which was which. You get my point. My agent thinks I'm too fat to audition for anything food related because no one casts a fat girl in a food ad. because that would imply that the food will make you fat, which it probably will but that means no McDonald's commercials for me. She thinks I'm "pretty fat" which means I have a great face and a fat body. Which is kinda like being "butter body" Everything about me is great but my body. (It's the opposite of a butter face: "everything about her is great but her face") She, having never seen me naked, and assuming I look at good under my clothes send me out for plus-size modeling a lot. Plus-sized models are beautiful women who happen to be a size 12 or larger and most of them are wonderously healthy. I mean, they look great. I do not. Not naked at any rate. I do a lot to look good with clothes on and honestly wonder about Arthur that he can stand to touch me. I have great boobs, nice wrists and decent ankles but everything else from the chin down hasn't been thought sexy since the dark ages.Back then I'm pretty sureI woudl have been burned at the stake for creating lascivious thoughts among the male-folk but I digress.... I am the type of fat that should be cast as the funny friend, the snarky, witty, drunker friend with a wealth of opinion and comment at her disposal. I am the Kathy Njimy, Rosie O'Donnell type. Have any idea how often my "type" of fat comes up? Not very that's how. Mostly my agent sends me on fat/fit and modeling stuff (because she thinks I'm awfully pretty) great, my bone structure is getting me in the door, but then they take one look at me and I'm either not fat enough or not fit enough. urgh. I could gain weight but I'd rather not die of diabetes or heart attack or obesity before I'm 40. I could lose weight. Ha! Ha ha ha ha ha. That's me laughing. Because if I could just lose weight I would! Dammit.

Seeing is believing

When I was in Thailand there was a lot of talk amongst us westerners as to whether or not elephants that paint are abused, mistreated, harangued, starved, hurt, etc etc to get them to do it. There are two sides to the argument, one side claims the animals are horribly mistreated to get them to do it and the other is that like some of us, some elephants enjoy painting. This video shows me that they must also have an aptitude for it I mean, I can't do that. and I have thumbs! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=He7Ge7Sogrk

NAKED TIME

Auditioned for underwear. They wanted “fit” overweight women. My fat is not fit. If it was fit, I wouldn’t be fat. But I endeavored to do my best anyway and we all know I have no shame so I walk in, strip down to my skivvies, and we chat, and she (The CD) films and then she hands me a plastic flower and asks me to do something with it. And I try, I really do, but come on! It’s a plastic flower! I’m not THAT creative! And so she asks me to do a flower dance and suddenly I am all modern dance, jazz, ballet diva and I’m having a great time and laughing and thoroughly enjoying myself and she goes, “okay! That was the best flower dance I’ve ever seen.” Ha ha. It was fun. Silly and fun. But no go on the casting front because they are looking for "fit" fat women. I know who they mean- women who look naturally plump. I carry my weight well but let's be honest- I carry it mostly around my middle and it's lumpy and floppity and in a scary competition with my back fat, back boobs anyone? anyone?

BLIND OR BLUFF?

I am not seeing what others are seeing. I’m in an acting class, which I love, it’s basically a scene study, contemporary American theatre, and I love it, and the teacher/ director is brilliant and wonderful but when I am working, doing my best to be “natural”, in the moment”, to be listening, and reacting” I am not seeing what others see in me. And okay, yeah, I’m not seeing me, but when my classmates tell me how great the scene is, and my part in particular, I have no clue WHY! Oh, listen to me whine. Who gives a shit? I should be happy Im not getting booed. But I wish I knew what others see. If only to feel a little less like a hack. I know I’m talented. But the same can be said of thousands, of hundreds of thousands of actors- what makes me special? Whine whine whine. Bitch bitch bitch. Everyone is welcome to my pathetic pity party. :)

PERFECT TIMING

Met another Casting Director, great guy, an East Coaster so of course, I like him. I almost blow it when he starts talking about the Super Bowl and his friends calling him from NY, (He’s from Boston) to rub his nose in it, and that he got like 40 drunk dials from one friend of his and I reply: “Oh, it was a booty call”. The temperature in the room drops like 12 degrees and he goes, “no, it was a guy” (Okay, does not like gay jokes, got it) so I laugh and go, “My bad, when I get 40 drunk dials it’s always a booty call”. Which made everyone laugh. Whoo. Then he and I do a one-on-one interview, and we’re chatting and I’m trying to be funny and still be snarky, and keep things light and we get to talking about sketch and he says “you seem like comedy is more your style” and I tell him that yeah, it sorta is, but funny thing, I trained for years to be a Shakespearean actor! And he says how he could totally see me playing Kate in “Taming of the Shrew” and then quotes this line to me: With my tongue in your tail? Nay, good Kate, I am a gentleman” To which I REPLIED, on the spot: “No gentleman sir, if your tongue be in my tail.” Neither of which are the actual lines but the point is this: we both thought they were! And it sounded right! Well played sirrah well played.

IDIOTS PART DEUX

Last class with the CD and I get to class early and sit there and the scene parter of the idiot who couldn’t tell astrologer from astronomer walks in and we start chatting. And she tells me what a wonderful actor I am and how I have “presence”. I say thank you because I was, after all, a Manners Teacher and after a compliment one is supposed to thank the complimentor. She then decides to go fishing. She actually says to me: “gee, I wish I had that, you know, “presence”.” Now I know what game she is playing- she wants me to compliment her back but ya know what? I don’t play well with others and fact is, she isn’t compelling or unique, or even that interesting so.... I just leave her hanging there when I reply: “yeah, I bet.”

IDIOTS WILL BE IDIOTS

I attend classes from time to time: mostly I pay money to meet a Casting Director and “sometimes” they actually give instruction on this biz of show rather than just taking my money and running. I do this at one place which is highly reputable, and they have an audition process to even get into a class, so the level of experience/ talent is pretty high. I am rarely the most talented person in the room. The other place I take classes at I have definitely decided to stop taking classes at. Because they don’t audition, and the level of experience/ talent is very low. I am always the most talented. I say that without conceit. It’s a shame, and really not worhty of my time if I’m the best in there. So I took this class because I wanted to meet the CD, she does a lot of work! First things first, there were children in the class. Children. The youngest was about 9, then two 13-14 year old girls, and lastley, a guy who I’m guessing was 17. Now I think we all know how I feel about kids in general. But this; this killed me. One of the days, we were doing “hot seat”, for those of you who don’t know, it’s where you sit in front of the class and everyone asks you questions and you answer as your character. It can be fun: like when my scene partner talked about life on his home planet (he’s playing an alien) and said his favorite food was “blertzack”, but he’s learning to like cow meat. And it’s meant to get you into the head of your character. I of course, was fabulous. :) But the teeny boppers asked these questions: “Um, do you, like, ever go to the mall, and then gt hungry and want pizza but then change your mind and get a cinnabon instead?” No I ma not making this crap up. I wanted to throttle someone. And the CD is way too nice to tell the little creeps to shut up. But even more idiotic than a teenage girl was a guy who gets up there and is asked questions about his profession and he tells us he’s an astrologer. And he’s asked why he chose that and he tells a heart-wrenching story about looking at the stars when he was a kid and how that made him want to grow up and be an astrologer. So I’m of course thinking, he means astronomer right? And the girl sitting next to me, God bless her, asks: “So, are you an astronomer, someone who studies the stars, or an astrologer, someone who studies charts?” And he goes: “I’m an astrologer”. The kicker? His scene parter was asked the same question and she said “astronomer” and ya know how she knew? It’s printed in the friggin script you frigging half wit!