Self-indulgent, Depressing Writing on Auditions and Busyness

I woke up this morning feeling rested and ready to go. I felt like I was ready to face the week.

It is now midnight and I am not looking forward to tomorrow, much less the rest of the week.

I work and then have an audition. Then I have a shoot for The Baristas. I love each job. But three in one day after a long week and no real weekend... is hard.

I don't know how much longer I can do this.

And I sure as heck don't know how mothers do this kind of thing. 

These are some things I need to do soon. Some sooner than others:

Schedule an eye doctor appointment, schedule a Trooper appointment, finalize my audition song for tomorrow, see if I can find a copy of my color headshot (does it really matter? It's not current anyway), plan my outfits for tomorrow, schedule an appointment for new headshots, plant bulbs for the Spring, finish scraping paint off the doorframe, re-study my SP case for tomorrow, come up with an over-arching plan for my Acting class, make cds for my Musical Theatre class, do our Texas laundry, look fierce, be amazing, and convey a message to my invisible scene partners- all three of them.

I used to like auditioning. I liked the rush, I liked the chance to prove myself, and I knew I was good. I thought it mattered that I was good. I guess I stopped thinking that it mattered if I was good or not, so I stopped preparing as much, which made my auditions not as good. That's no good. 

I tell my students all the time that if they don't get a role, it's not because they're bad actors, it's just that they're not who the company is looking for. If the company isn't looking for you, it doesn't matter how good you are! You won't get it! I just wish that (although it's nice to be seen) companies who have seen me multiple years in a row would say, "No, I'm sorry. I'm not looking for you," and save me the trouble and their own 10 minutes. 

Plus, I drive myself crazy trying to figure out what they're looking for! Why am I not it? Do I need to show more range emotionally? Technically? Is my song too long? Is my monologue too short? And all that second-guessing really does a number on my confidence level and, consequently, my audition. Really, I'm probably just too short. And what can I do about that? Nothing. I could sing like Jakie Evancho and act like Meryl Streep and I still wouldn't get it. It just doesn't work on stage to have an adult who's shorter than the children in the show. 

I would like to thank all the directors who cast me as an adult. 

I would like to thank all the directors who cast me as a child.

Really, I'd like to thank all the directors who cast me at all. 

(I should never blog at night. It's always depressing and all my sentences start with "I.")

Pro choice

Bing: The Decision Engine!

Does it scare anybody else that some marketer thought that would be an effective slogan? 

Does anybody else sense an Artificial Intelligence sci-fi thriller here? 

Ever since Bing first made its appearance, I have been freaked out by it. I think I have used it three times. And it is just a search engine, like any other search engine. It takes past choices and friends' choices into account when giving you results, but it is just a search engine. What scares me more than a search engine misnomer is the idea that people find it attractive to have a computer make decisions for them.

Hasn't anybody seen Terminator?! 

All joking aside, why would you want a computer to tell you want you want? Sure, it's making that prediction based on your choices in the past. Sure, it's easier to just let it decide rather than weigh all the options yourself. But really? Where is there room for development? Change? A natural growth? When did you cease to think for yourself and begin to rely on that computer? How far does it go? After it tells you where you would like to go for dinner, will it tell you how you would like to raise your children? Who you would vote for in the next election?

That is what scares me more than Bing. It scares me that enough people are tired of thinking that some advertising executive knew that "The Decision Engine" would be an effective slogan.

I think there are some weird, new trends in decision-making. The current, most PC method is this: You make your own decisions known, "I made some great whole-grain granola with locally grown items I bought in bulk from Whole Foods and (insert ethnic store here). So excited!" But, on the flip side, you keep all global opinions to yourself: You just quietly look down on people (or look away) as they throw out their glass bottles or let their children eat foods with red dye #4. You would never come out and say that everybody should make granola like you! That would just be presumptuous, or offensive, and you would never-tell other people what to do with their lives! But at the same time, you really think that local, home-made granola is the way to go. 

The opposite of that are the "crazy liberals" or "crazy conservatives" or "crazy Christians" or "crazy Atheists" who drive around with their bumper stickers and t-shirts that tell everybody how to vote, who to love, and what to think. And although it can be annoying, I'd rather have the "crazies" tell me their opinions than have a computer tell me mine.

Let me filter through the crazies and try to decipher the opinions of the never-tells. Let me use my brain to decide my decisions, rather than letting Apple or Google or Microsoft or... who, exactly, is making this search engine? Who are its biggest advertisers? And just how often do you think their "choices" come up in comparison to all the rest?

Sure, they may be unbiased now, but what about after our brains have been turned off for a few years and we stop examining our choices?

I know these are a lot of questions, and I think you know the kinds of answers I would give you. But fire up that brain again, and decide for yourself.

I kind of want to continue my fiction story, but I don't have my opposition sketched out and I don't want to just flounder around.

Instead, here is a list of things I have done today, things I will continue to do today, and then a short post on our current home improvement project (not the tv show)

Things I have done:

*Vacuumed a cat's worth of Trooper hair from the carpet upstairs

*Primed two spots on the wall downstairs so I can later test-paint them with two completely different colors.

* Moved the carpet upstairs so that the chewed part is now hidden. 

* Took Trooper on a walk (to take Eric to work)

* Answered some e-mails and canoodled around on Facebook for awhile.

* Sorted coupons, cut out coupons, and watched The Doctors (All at once)

* Completed two loads of laundry (and two more are in process)

* Sang a lullaby to my cute, sleepy puppy.

What I still need to do today:

* Take a shower

* Finish making the cookies from the cookie dough in the fridge

* Finish writing.

* Finish the laundry

* Prepare for a new SP case

* Paint the swatches of paint 

* Eat something (hopefully make real tomato soup!)

* Get Eric 

* Go to rehearsal

I am so grateful to have a day (relatively) off in order to get this done!

Which brings me to home renovations.

As you may or may not know, Eric and I bought a house last December (well, actually January, but we moved in during December. Actually, November. But... It's a long story).

We love our house. It has a yard for Trooper, a lot of space, and the price was more than right. 

The house also, however, needs a bit of work. We made a list of things we'll need to fix which includes (but is definitely not limited to): Take out the window in the bathroom that looks at the back of the wall for the adjacent room. Paint. Everything. Put quarter round down around the baseboards. And change the kitchen. Entirely. Like, swap it out, if possible. 

Yesterday, we took one of our first real steps toward re-doing the kitchen. A very nice salesman/kitchen designer from Home Depot came to look at our kitchen cabinets and talk about cabinet refacing. Now, for those of you who have never seen our kitchen, let me describe it for you. Picture this:

Electric army mint green coats the walls, including the wainscoting, window sills, trim, and door frame. The cabinets look like a jack o'lantern's face. They are missing doors, drawers, and sliders. Rumor has it they were found by the side of the road for free. I wouldn't be surprised. The hardware on the cabinets scream, "1970's!" The sink is quite nice, deep, and off-white enamel with an ugly plastic brightwhite sprayer/faucet. And it is located right behind the door. The oven/stove is an island. Not like a kitchen island. Just an island. Or more like a peninsula- shoved up against an already-jutting wall, with no counter on either side. The addition of a table would make the kitchen too small, but right now it seems deceptively large, for a room with three doors (one leading to the outside).

Basically, the kitchen has got to change. Research ensues.

We would like to hire people to knock down a load-bearing wall. Ha! No really. That will open the house up considerably. The ceilings will seem higher, the rooms will seem bigger, and it will be a LOT easier to get things up and down the stairs. So that's step one.

Step Two: Live with the lack of cabinet space as we assess our new, larger-looking kitchen, and save up money and look for things. Think about where things should go (I have a few ideas). Here's a hint: the sink would no longer be behind the door. The oven would no longer be an island. Thankfully, Eric and I tend to be pretty patient for a long time, and then move in a burst of activity! That seems conducive to this step of waiting and thinking and planning and buying things slowly. 

Step Three: Hire more people- a wall-plaster guy, an electrician, a plumber. Get the appliances moved and hooked up. Put the walls back on and the floor. 

Step Four: Put in new cabinets (or re-face our own cabinets, thanks to Mr. Home Depot guy!) 

Step Five: Have a party!

I have a feeling that Step Five will be repeated throughout the process.

Sensitive

I'm back!

I'm not allowed to apologize for the little break there- I think one of the reasons I always quit writing before was because I felt so guilty when I didn't live up to whatever standard I had set. Basically, one day was so full I didn't have time during the day, then I came home and burned myself on a hot pan at night and was too upset to do anything but go to bed. Yesterday was again busy, and when I wasn't out, i was trying to sleep off this crazy headache. Anytime I jumped on the computer, the internet connection was so spotty, I was scared that anything I wrote would be lost in the abyss. It's happened before. In between there, I wrote about 9/11 and worked on my novel plot, but I really don't want to show the whole world, so I'm just gonna dive back in like nothing ever happened!

This isn't really a 9/11 post. Like I said, I didn't want to show that one to everybody. This is a different post. Anyway, here it is:

Church yesterday was great. It commemorated 9/11- the sacrifice, bravery, unity, and heartache. Where was God through it all? they asked. It was a good question, and well answered, too. They showed a short video about 9/11. They sang a song about it. The pastor's message centered on it. But as I looked around, I saw people sitting like they were watching a movie, and not even a sad movie. A training video or an educational video. Yes, they were somber. They were quiet and respectful. And I don't look down on them, but I see it as a sad reflection of our society that only a handful of people were crying. Nobody was holding each other. 

I did cry, but not openly. I let the tears roll down my face, but tried so hard to keep my breathing even, only dab at my eyes a few times, not let anybody know I was crying. Why? What is so wrong about being openly sad and hurting about something that is sad and hurtful? I wasn't afraid of distracting other people near me- I was afraid of them noticing my tears at all. Why? Did I want them to think that 9/11 didn't effect me? That pictures of dust-covered New York and crying firefighters wouldn't move me? What kind of horrible person isn't moved by that? Did I want them to think I was a horrible person?

Were they all horrible people because they didn't show emotion? No, they're not. They're just stoic. Or too saturated with sad images. Or too used to seeing destruction. Or... strong? Is it strong to be stone-faced when remembering that 3,000 people died for no reason? Maybe all their tears were spent and they had none left to give.

"There's no great loss without some small gain," Ma Ingalls said. This great loss is not worth the small gain, but the small gain is there nonetheless. In my case, I realized that, just maybe, I have the soul of an artist. I can cry in public. I find some tragedies so unbearable that I cannot bring myself to watch them, because they wound my soul so deeply. I have never seen the movie Titanic- I can't bear to watch even reproductions of those many Irish families locked in steerage. I know it is just a movie. Even an homage to the people who died. But so many people died, and I know it in my head and my heart- I don't have to see it with my eyes. I watch bunnies. Really watch them. I pick flowers just because they're pretty. I have never seen The Passion of the Christ (see above Titanic explanation). When I am slighted by someone I love, I feel abandoned. I can't control my face. Sometimes, those closest to me will say, "Laura, you look angry." "I am angry," I reply. "Well, you don't have to show it on your face," they say. But I do. I don't know how not to.

I've never thought of myself as an artist. Even though I am an actor, I just think, "Not all actors are artists- I just play pretend really well. I remember my lines and I try to be nice to the tech people, and really what else does it take?" Maybe I am just sensitive, and not an artist at all. But I feel things so deeply that maybe that is the soul of my acting. Maybe it will be the soul of my writing. 

I don't have an answer.

Big, Bad, Laura-borgs!

I don't know what to write tonight, but I just fed my puppy and when I put the bowl down, he looked up at me and wagged his tail before eating. :)

I think I'll write about TV.

I've always had a strange relationship with TV. It was not well-regarded or really respected in my house growing up, and with good reason! My parents looked around and saw the evidence of children's tv addictions- shorter attention spans, less reading, hours where the brain lay dormant and the body lay wasted. Not surprisingly, they didn't want their children to be that way. So TV was restricted. First by availability- we never had cable. The best we could do were some of the stations from Buffalo and some of the stations from Erie and a few even from Canada. We also only had one tv- in the living room, to be shared by all four girls and two parents. Second, by content- when I was little I watched Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers. on PBS, and that was about it. My PBS television watching gave rise to some pretty fun pretend play- my sisters and I would play "Pledging," which had nothing to do with sororities. In that game, we urged children to go get their parents, and promised them a new teddy bear if they pledged just $50 dollars a month! That's all it takes! $50 dollars a month and this teddy will be yours! Call now!

As I got into elementary school, our tv time was limited so that we could pursue other activities, like reading or sports or drawing or making lemonade stands or playing with friends- a decision I whole-heartedly support and will practice myself when I have children. We got two hours per week and two hours (or one movie) per weekend, more or less. My sisters watched Star Trek: TNG during the week, which I half-watched/half-hid-in-the-stairway when anybody too scary looking came on. I later proudly carried the Star Trek torch myself (our dog was named Riker, if you remember!). Our other favorites were Lois and Clark: The Adventures of Superman, and Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman. Christy was on for a short period, too, and we watched every episode. For years, we kept about 30 VHS tapes, all with various episodes of the aforementioned tv shows. Looking back, I don't really know why we taped them, except that we could, so why not?

Now, I'm about to divulge a little secret. I think this may rather shock my parents (in fact, I am so embarrassed about this that I just called to tell them so they don't find out with the rest of Facebook): In Middle School, after school when my mom was at work and my sister was at whatever sport she was in, I would watch hours of afternoon TV: Power Rangers, Big Bad Beetleborgs, Wishbone, Batman, Spiderman, Gargoyles- every show that I was probably too old for. But I didn't care- I was getting away with it.

My sister, Joy, was on to me from the start. The very first thing she would do when she walked in the door is run to the couch and check for a warm spot, where I'd been sitting. I kid you not. So... I sat on the coffee table. Ha! Score one for the little sister. Next- (again, I'm not kidding)- she would check the channel to see if it was still on the place she had left it the night before. So... the first thing I did during my forbidden afternoon tv-watching is set the "flashback" button- One push of that button, and the channel was back to whatever static-trap she had laid. And the last check? Volume- was it louder than it had been? Softer? Did I change the volume in any way? No. The answer is no- again, I memorized the volume number and turned it back. I'm no dummy. And I made sure I wasn't always in the same place every day when they came home. Sometimes I would sit on the coffee table and then bound up the stairs to my room when I heard the garage door open! Sometimes I would sit in the big comfy chair with a book on the end table, my place casually being marked by the remote control. Sometimes I would sit on the couch and throw the remote across the room so that when Joy came home and felt the couch, I could say, "Of course it's warm! I was sitting there! Look! The remote is all the way on that chair, there. It's nowhere near me."

I never really thought of this as an act of rebellion. I knew I was being disobedient, that's for sure. And sneaky and secretive. And I knew the shows I was watching weren't even that good! I never thought, "Oh, I just have to finish this show!" like I did with a book. I never talked about it with my friends at school because it wasn't cool to be an 8th grade girl and watching Power Rangers every day. And now, 15 years later, what I remember most about my Middle School tv-watching is the way that I could outsmart my sister. Or at least frustrate her beyond belief! She knew I was watching TV, she just couldn't prove it. 

After this tumultuous period, TV and I settled down. I used to sew and watch CSI in college, back when it was good. I would watch America's Next Top Model marathons during long weekends at Aunt Dot's house. And then the Disney Channel after a midnight shift at Eat'n'Park- it was guaranteed to be clean, and also guaranteed to shut my brain off after hours of remembering drinks and rolls. When Eric and I first got married, we watched House, and sang along with the theme song, which is fun because it's just the same thing over and over again- nah-NAH-nuh-NAH-nuh-NAH-nuh!

And now, one of Eric's and my favorite activities is to come home after teaching at the Performing Arts Academy on Thursday nights, order pizza, and watch The Mentalist. We don't even have to sit on the coffee table!