the subway is a rollercoaster that takes you to work.

Yeah, it's really enough with the marshmellow peeps already.

actual questions from people at work in the past 2 weeks, usually while I'm in the middle of three other things:

"where did this furniture come from?"
"why is the water cooler empty?"
"does the coffee pot seem like it's brewing really slowly lately?"
"where is the little key thing? did I give it to [so and so] or do I still have it?"
"do you know offhand, what are my options for flying home from albany on the 8th, and how much would that be?"

I feels ok. I feel asleep on wet hair last night. It looks a lil funky today. My schedule is starting to return to normal but really not. I'm just spending every evening away from home somewhere other than the theater.

blahblahblah actingcakes.
This whole weekend has been a- let's call it "growth period" for me as an actor. Between going up on my lines for the first time to the horrific shakespeare auditions, I'm becoming a rhinoceros. Did I mention at the end of my pointless audition, one of the directors leaned over to the stack of scenes reserved for callbacks and said "hold on a second", then pulled out a monologue and said, "here, give this to Todd". I had this little glimmer of hope, and then, oh yes. I forgot. I am only an appendage of another actor, an actor you do want to see again.
That which does not kill us only makes for an awkward moment and a halfway decent story. okay. as soon as something in my life happens, I will change the subject. I promise. Until then, boring theatre crap.

Hey! how about
currents:
lunch: antipasto, trailmix
outfit: black buttondown, cords
smell: plain old skin smell
song: untouchable face, ani difranco
tv show: the office, though they started showing Johnathan Creek again. I know how they all end and yet I can't look away.
crush: billy b. and my boyfriend, not that I remember what he looks like. ::sniffle::
fear: losing my job, not getting cast (the latter more likely than the former)
things I'm grateful for: the antipasto from the deli, sunshine, being in the black (almost), smallville night, being completely alone on this floor of the building, my friends, a body that functions relatively well, a day off on friday.
stuff like that.

I'm working so I don't have to try
so hard.
Tables, they turn sometimes.

I auditioned for Shakespeare today. It was horribly discouraging. It just was. I think I did a decent enough job in the audition, but the whole process was demeaning and weird. They had a huge group of callbacks scheduled before the cattle call. So we all got to sit there and watch different people get paired up and given different sides and given direction from the auditors. And then when that was all over, they took "the rest of us". There was just no point to it.

Ok, shake it off. Make some plans to travel this summer. Lose some weight, write that one woman show I've been talking about. Tonight, I'm going to eat mexican pizza and drink molson canadians until I pass out. Then, I'm going to take a lap and get on with life.

you know what would make me feel better?
A kiss from my celebrity crush. Can that be arranged?

Wow.

I went up. Way up. Got to the middle of the monologue, and stopped.
Yes.
Bad.
Very.
What a feeling, indeed.

Luckily, it is built into the monologue that the character is giving a presentation and is a tiny bit flaky, kind of going on and off on tangets. So I played it a little bit like that and got back into it. But it was palpable, and painful. I was standing outside the theater talking to a friend after the show when the reviewer who referred to me as "riotously perfect" a mere month ago walked out . . and pretended not to recognize me.
Tracey came over and we had lime popsicles and a three hour "It's All Part of the Journey" conversation and I felt better.

Human beings fuck up. It's not because I wasn't prepared or because I didn't care or that I'm not good at what I do, it happened because it happens.
Deep breath and dive back in girl. The world ain't gonna wait cause you flaked.

Didn't skip any lines. Didn't bump into the furniture*. Got a nice little present. Got my picture taken a few times. Got drunk. Said stupid things. Didn't block any of it out.
I got to sit in a circle of miserable castmembers of a far more. . . affluent production. Apparently the director uses the "screaming and name calling" technique. We may not sell out a single night, but at least I'm having a good experience. This isn't bragging, I'm just very grateful I get to do this and not dread it.

It's definitely new music days. I ordered Giddy Up from New World Records and they still haven't called me. Why is this cd so freakin hard for me to get my hands on? I'm starting to take it personally.

*not with the lights up, anyway.

"how do you feel about The Planet of the Apes?"
"The movie or the planet?"
"The MUSICAL!"

I feel better but sleepy. I have reached the point where I feel like I live at the theater. The show feels like summer camp. There's three girls and three boys (all unattached except me) running around in various stages of undress, the immaturity and innuendo is as thick as marmalade. We're lousy with it. Yes, I said "we".

I love you, lunch.
I love you, imagination.
Salad, we're just getting to know each other, so I'm taking it slow.

I need a cry.
I need a ride home tonight, too.

I had a nightmare last night. I've been having a lot of them lately. My nightmares suck because there's nothing illogical about them at all. They are all about things that happen in a realistic and horrible fashion. the feeling is with me all day, even when I'm doing my funny little props dance on the tv. Does that mean I have a disorder?

Todd filmed some kind of commercial/industrial film thing today. He got a hundred bucks to be an extra for an hour. We're both so famous it hurts to think about it.

I'm tired. I need a hug and a nap and to brush my teeth.
I'm so needful.

I need a new email address. I have to get rid of the hotmail I post here because I am getting way way too much spam. blargh. any suggestions?

I just did a monologue on a local morning talk show to promote the play. I feel kind of dirty. It's cool to think about, but to actually do it? Kind of like wearing a chicken suit.

Everything is so off. I'm in my new office and everything is a different color, all my stuff is on opposite sides and three feet away. My current desk is a drafting table, which is about a fourth of the space I had before. Just weird. My clothes don't fit today as well. The good thing about the new set up is no one can sneak up behind me when I'm looking at stuff on the internet.

Happy Hour Billy


Which side of Billy Boyd do YOU dream of?
brought to you by Quizilla


Yeah. Well. So. Since when do I like blondes two inches shorter than I am? Since always!
I fucking love that picture.

I'm happy right now because my tax return cleared. Four figures in the savings account, at long last.

Should I see Bend it Like Beckham or do nothing? hm.

"Sometimes I'm just off, alone in the world, being awkward."

I am all off and weird lately. We did two runthroughs of the show yesterday and I had absolutely no concentration. I'm getting a lot of praise for this light little airy monologue and the scene in which I'm the suicidal woman in her eighties is all over the map. My only note after the run was "Where did sarah go?" I can't think straight. I'm thinking so much I can't do it right. I'm certain it's the weakest part of the show. I hate myself and I'm sure I'm broadcasting it. Also, I made some dumbass crack to my friend who took it to heart so now there's tension and saddness and ten different kinds of apology that don't really change anything. I never considered myself the kind of person who hurt feelings. I'm so hyper-aware of everything I say now, and my confidence is shot in . . . well, just about every area. This is good for me. I'm building character. This is like the time in high school when a friend of mine and I were about to make an entrance and I told her "you have a square face." and she slapped me, hard. This situation is just like that, only less overt and less funny. (but still, all about ME!) Plus, I had invited her and another girl over to my parent's house for Easter. I'm in Awkwardness Heaven.

"Aren't there any more somber Sousa marches we could play before this scene?"

"what's the password for such and such?"
"um . pippin."
"what?"
"um, I said 'pippin'."
"what, do you like that musical or something?"
"no, um, like the hobbit. see, well, he eats a lot and he knocks things over and --"
"oh, ok" (has already walked away)

I need my back cracked in places I can't reach. I wish I hadn't given my Divine Comedy cd to my brother to burn. He's not going to like it. I wish I could just have one job. I wish that job was not 'receptionist et al'. I wish I could steal the bobcat sitting outside my door and ride it far far away to a vacation place.
"Bobcat, take me somewhere far far away from here. I will sit in your scoop and wave to passersby. We'll make beautiful music together, and it will all sound like chugga chugga chugga."

My picture turned out pretty nice. I'm kind of laughing and looking away and picking at the wall behind me. I look really happy. Funny thing is, my brother and his wife came home from New Jersey last night. I show up at the house like, "hey look! I got my picture taken!" and my brother said, "Cool, so did I." and he hands me these unbelievable shots, like beautiful, spent-four-figures-on-them-looking shots of him. And I said, "oh yeah? Well here's mine. Oh yeah, they're printed out on copy paper! the photographer did them for twenty bucks! Smell that!"

weird thing #1: I met the stage manager for our show last night. We were in a play together at buff state seven years ago, and neither of us can remember what it was called.

weird thing #2: My sister got her first haircut in over 16 years. She kept flipping her head around. Today is her thirtieth birthday. I bet money her boyfriend is going to propose today.

Wow. I cannot get it together at all. Yesterday I forgot my wallet but didn't realize it until I had already used the services of our illustrious metro service. My wallet is the black thing with a dragon on it that is wrapped around a pricey bus pass. Since I did not have it with me I got a ticket for fare evasion. (See, in Buffalo you can get on the subway and ride all you want, but if a cop comes up to you and asks you for proof of payment and you don't have it you have to give them fifty dollars. Even if you didn't mean to.) I didn't even bother trying to get out of it. I just kind of shrugged and spelled my last name for them.
Then I went to the gym and got undressed and then realized I had brought two tshirts, no pants, and nothing to tie my hair back with. I just try and try and I can't pull it together.


My friend is on her way over with my headshots. I'm nervous and thirsty.

and this . . . was his gourd!!!"

Speaking of fixing deeper problems by changing the surface:
Who wants to redesign this piece of puke?
One two three NOT IT!

Please find a few new links on the right that I have been reading but not linking. If you see yourself over there and aren't thrilled, drop me a comment and I'll take you out lickety split, no hurt feelings. I'm getting pretty exclusive traffic here anyway.

I saw a play tonight, Tartuffe at the alma mater. A kid I went to grammar school with was in it. Geezus. He started acting a few months ago and he just is so damn good. I hate him for it. I went and talked to his mom after and told her what a great performance he gave. She looked vaguely pissed about the whole situation.

This is why people hate actors. Because this is all we talk about. I'm sorry. I'm not going to change, but I'm still sorry about it.

Did I tell you todd got an x-box? The dynamic of the relationship changes immensely whenever a new game or game system is introduced. We haven't spoken about anything real in a solid week. We play fight and it turns into real fight. It's a weird adrenaline thing. I no likey.

The pictures went as well as pictures of me can. There was a lot of excitement about the way I leaned on a concrete slab and stared into the sun. My boss did catch me having my eyebrows tweezed in the car by another woman. That was an awkward moment, because he couldn't quite see what was going on. People must think I'm a freak.
I can always convince myself that I looked nice and when I get the pictures back it's always the same story. I might have that dismorphic disorder. Or I'm a total narcassist. Or I might actually look like a flat- haired pile of mud. There's no accounting for taste, I guess.


By the way, that bonus disc that you get in the really, really extended fellowship of the ring dvd set? Not too shabby. I rented it through netflix. I should have held out for the "argonath bookends" version.
More Billy=More Happy

me:"Jeez, smells like they're burning wood up there. I wonder what they're doing."
someone:"Burning wood . . ?"
someone else:"could you be less specific?"

Ok everybody, can we stop imitating the sparkling banter from shitty sitcoms once in a while and communicate with each other? It's just not cute. Maybe I don't want you to make me forget my troubles of the day with tenderhearted humor for the whole family, maybe I just want to know if the building is on fire.

Good news! Candy and Susie are moving into the city!
Good news! I finished the [outline for] screenplay for the short film!
Good news! I am no longer blowing blood and some kind of clotty black shit out of my nose!

So things are happy!

The screenplay is in that perfect state, not finished, needing rewrites and restructuring, but the all basic elements that have been rolling around in my brain for a year and a half are there. No real title. No one has looked at it but me. I've only told two people about it. It's so perfect and untouched, it's like being pregnant. One day, I realize, I will have to let go.

I have about 15 pages of dialouge and a monologue to memorize by tomorrow afternoon. dicey.

I'm getting my headshots taken after work today. Tracey is going to borrow her dad's camera and I'm going to wear black and run around the city and be the only one at the auditions with a headshot in natural light. I am different and cool because I am too poor to go to a studio. Love how that works out.

I did my taxes and paid my bills last night. I am about two paychecks away from being in the black. (!!!!!!) No big deal. It won't last very long. It's been a year and a half of not buying anything for myself other than bare necessities and cds. Once I pay off this final credit card bill I will have a substantial amount of money left over from my paychecks every month. Maybe I'll subscribe to a magazine, or get some elective surgery, or a tattoo of a nipple in the middle of my chest! The world is my oyster!

I'll probably get glasses and go to the dentist. Maybe some new pants. Yes, pants.

I put in Braveheart on monday because there is shit on tv on monday nights. That movie is like, five hours long. I put it in at 8:30, and at 12:30 there was still more movie left, and I had to turn it off. It can't be that long. Maybe I watched it wrong.

The office going-away party on friday:
"hey, todd, how's your play? hey, sarah, how's your cold?"
S'ok. I figure they'll notice I'm more than their 'office mommy' when I do some work worth noticing.

Except for three hours of rehearsal in the afternoon, I was in a fetal position for most of yesterday. My head is killing me. This is not the sickest I've ever been but it is the longest I've ever been sick. I've never finished one whole box of medicine before, right now I'm on my way through a second.

I'm going to see a movie later. We watched Vanilla Sky, which was not the worst I've ever seen. The music was really good and I like what it tried to do, but whenever anything happened there was that turn to the audience to explain every single motivation and action and reaction. I hate when they overdo exposition, and when they mistake exposition for storytelling. In my opinion, you didn't need the psychiatrist character at all. Then again, who am I? Just a secretary from Buffalo with an opinion.

I am just peeking my head out of a stack of paperwork for a moment. I hate responsibility. Contractors suck at picking out names for their companies. I'm in a sea of initials up in here.

I'm still very very sick, but somehow better. I've lost three pounds. woohoo. Now if I could just do that nineteen more times . . .

Anyway. We're having a going away party for one of my friends from work. He's already been home a week to pack. I realized he was gone yesterday when I sent out a bulk email and nobody replied with a sassy remark. :(