Shaken by being... unshaken.

My partner adamantly believes that everything happens for a reason.

Although no injury or damage is being reported and the epicenter was nearly 50 miles from my apartment, by missing my flight this morning I missed the 5.4 earthquake that hit Los Angeles at 11:42 a.m. local time.

Holy shit.

I missed my f*ing flight back to LA!

I am so exhausted from stress right now...

I stood in the CHECK IN line, not even the usually problematic security line, for nearly an hour and missed my flight "due to the incompetence of Spirit airlines employees," as my significant other has now told four different customer service employees via phone. "I've been in customer service for fifteen years and if I treated people the way she was treated I wouldn't have a job!" Despite his very valiant efforts, we've been given the telephone runaround, from India to Detroit and back, and it seems to be a lost cause. Another woman my age (who I noticed and remember by the bad bridesmaid dress she was carrying around) waited for an hour and a half in two different check-in lines and also missed the same flight.

So here I sit in my Toledo living room feeling a million emotions, all of which are heightened by tiredness.

I feel pretty stupid because my beau and I have to shoulder much of the responsibility for both believing the standard time frames were to get to the airport an hour before domestic flights and two hours before international flights. After all, I was at my gate in only twenty minutes at LAX when I flew home last week. When the unhelpful Spirit Airline employee snapped that I should have been there two to three hours early, I ironically quipped, "THREE HOURS for a domestic flight?! There's no way your website says that!" Actually... it does. Damn it.

I am obviously tired and frustrated. I've been awake since 4 a.m. and we just lost half of what we originally spent and will now have to spend more to get me back to LA. I wish I could have found a better way to handle the situation; I've taken Dale Carnegie courses! But no amount of niceness, persuasion or bitchiness helped. Both the attendant and her supervisor were utterly unhelpful and and borderline rude; they barely spoke loud enough, they did not make eye contact and had horrible grammar. "She ain't gonna make it."

Part of the problem is that all passengers had to check in on a touch screen monitor; like "you scan" at the grocery, one employee watches two or three monitors. I argue that human-to-human service is faster because most passengers took a while acclimating themselves with the machine. The other woman who missed the flight had already checked in online, but still had to wait with everyone else to print her boarding pass and check luggage.

I had to get back for my free Universal Studios acting class tonight and I am scheduled to work tomorrow... But, "what's done is done," as my dad would say, so I'm not really dwelling on what I'm missing; I'm too occupied dwelling on bigger issues.

I'm happy I get to stay longer. That's to be expected and there's nothing wrong with it, I worry though, that the longer I stay the harder and harder it will become to go back to LA. I frequently told people this week that everything about LA is indescribably difficult and that I've have ups and downs; they'd get that look on their faces and I'd quickly continue, saying it's not like I'm giving up and moving back. I'm there to stay, it's just hard. To make going back to the land of difficulty easier, I had hoped our house would just be a house, that I'd be terribly bored and wonder how I ever tolerated living in Ohio... Our house, however, is still a beautiful home full of memories, I was not bored and although it's more difficult to the stomach tacky people, hickish homesteads and small minded thinking, the places and people I prefer are still familiar and relaxing.

I am so stuck in my head right now, thinking, I should be itching to get back to LA, to my acting classes and auditions, but right now I am so tired and frustrated I just don't care. I can hear my acting teacher annoyingly saying, "your career is a ship and you are the captain, I am here to help guide you as much as you allow me to... did you bring my check?" After we drove an hour back home this morning we checked options online; we could have immediately rushed back to DTW to *hopefully* catch a flight landing in LA at 3 p.m., but there was no way I was being peeled off the couch or dragged back into that fucking airport.

Other than one lousy shift, I don't have anything on my schedule this week; I'm sure if I go back, nothing will come my way, but if I stay here a few more days all sorts of opportunities will pass me by. I hate this! I hate how geographically far away my career is. I hate how last-minute and inconsiderate the entertainment industry is to the rest of your life. Most of all, I hate my attitude right now! As happy as I am to be here a little longer, I don't want to go through the tears and torment of saying goodbye again... Everything this morning has highlighted how badly I want a magic solution to a situation that doesn't have one!

I need to get some sleep...

Flying Feline?

As I've mentioned before, in addition to missing my boyfriend, family, friends, home in Ohio and the comfort and convenience of familiarity, I long for the unconditional love of my pets.

I worried my cat would be mad and snub me on this visit, since cats can be temperamental, but thankfully it's been quite the opposite, he's been on my lap every time I sit down and I wake with him curled at my feet most mornings. Of course, this has me once again thinking about taking him back to California. I probably won't because that would leave the ten year old Great Dane with no companionship, along with other factors I listed before, yet, here I sit at my kitchen counter at 3 a.m., "trapped" by the sleeping cat on my lap, looking up airplane regulations and cat travel tips.
I found this super cool video; check it out:



I was displeased to read that Spirit charges $85 for a pet-as-a-carry-on, that's a bit more than I expected. I was also surprised to find that vets no longer recommend using a sedative or tranquilizer on a pet during air travel because both the drugs and altitude affect blood pressure and could have deadly results. My cat tolerates car trips, usually hunkering on the drivers lap; he does not like being kept in his carrier and I fear he'd "mow" annoyingly for at least the first hour of the four and a half hour flight... (He does not meow, he "mows," as in, rhymes with cow.)

He really does seem to know who's controlling the vehicle and favor them, so perhaps if I asked nicely, the pilot would let him be a cockpit leg warmer!? Yeah right!

I don't know why I'm doing this to myself again... It's mean to the dog, the travel would be stressful on the cat, I would always be worried that he'd slip out the door under my roommates feet, I'd worry he'd choose to mark his new home, it would be very expensive with the airline fee, pet deposit, new liter box, etc... I can't speak from experience, but it seems like mothers and children - Despite the awful labor, they say when the new baby is laid in your arms it's all worth it... My cat is so damn cute/handsome, just to look at! Then he cuddles up to me with his soft fur, warmth and roaring purr and I just can't help but feel like he belongs with me, despite the logic and obstacles against it. I even feel like he wants to be with me!

Oh for the love! I am not the kind of person who speaks for animals! It must be the White Zin talking. I was at a beautiful wedding tonight and am very happy for my newlywed friends and their open bar. It really was one of the best weddings I've ever been to; more about that later, the cat has left my lap, thus freeing me to go spend valuable, fleeting moments wrapped in my beau's arms...

Honey, I’m Home!

Everyone likes surprises, right? Well, I decided it would be fun to tell as few people as possible that I was coming home for a visit! Not to metion the fact that I've been warned visits home are stressful because you're pulled in so many different directions; I figured I'd have more control if no one knew I was coming. Of course my boyfriend, who purchased my plane ticket knew, as well as the soon-to-be-wed friends whose wedding I’ll be attending. My parents, on the other hand, have been hearing white lies from me for the past two weeks… “Putting a new alternator in my car was the price of a plane ticket!” That’s true! “It’s hard to plan because my work schedule only gives me two days notice!” That’s true too! “No, I just can’t make it to so-and-so’s wedding… we haven’t kept in touch anyway.” Okay, that one’s a complete lie!

Honestly, it was difficult to pick days and buy the ticket; rather, it was stressful. Everything in LA happens at the last minute! My work schedule is issued on Friday and begins that Sunday! Audition notices are very last minutes; last week I was only given a few hours to get to one. You just have to select a date and assume you’re going to miss out on something. It’s Murphy’s Law.

We booked the flight for Monday July 21st to Tuesday July 29th. Of course, I ended up having NOTHING to do the 18th, 19th and 20th, but had to decline a direct request from a casting director to audition for a non-union film because it rehearsed and shot the 24th and 25th.

I sulked in my apartment all day Friday the 18th, frustrated that we hadn’t booked the flight for that day, and knowing I couldn’t extend the visit because I have things to get back for the 29th and 30th… In the hours of insomnia Saturday morning I decided just to check into changing the flight. My boyfriend had tried to extend his last visit, but the change fee was $600! In comparison, the $80 change fee Spirit airlines wanted seemed reasonable, then there was an additional $60 price difference. Can I afford to spend $140 on a whim? No. But did I have $140? Yes. (I don’t use a credit card, so I literally have money, or I don’t.)

I figure, $140 is a really fancy diner, or fantastic gift , and my boyfriend certainly deserves that! I thought, the ability to surprise him too would be priceless! When we originally bought the ticket I said I couldn’t wait for the day I had enough money to buy my own plane ticket and fly home without him knowing…

My engaged friend had already offered a ride home from the Detroit Metro, so taking him up on his previous offer was easy. The hard part became getting from my apartment to LAX. You are NEVER going to believe this story! Coming soon…

Actually I wrote this entry and the to-the-airport story while waiting for my departure and in the air, but I’m rationing my pre-written posts this week. ;)

Blogging from the iPhone store!

I'm in the process of getting an iPhone and blogging from the floor model.

Lots has been going on... I JUST got a callback for the PBS show with 24 hour notice, but I can't make it! :(
Hopefully they'll work with me and reschedule.

I'll explain why I can't make it soon...

A year ago today...

Wow, I just really freaked myself out...

I've been thinking lately that it's probably been about a year since I totaled my Honda and broke my collar bone, forcing me to postpone my move to LA. For whatever reason, a moment ago I decided to actually check; I flipped my phone open to it's calendar expecting to have to scroll through July of '07, but instead, on this very date one year ago was listed the event I was driving to when the accident happened.

I had emailed my boyfriend sort of whining that if I don't get called into work this morning that I don't have anything else I have to do on my calendar... but realizing the date, I will gladly stay safely sequestered in my apartment building!

A forced update

Does your internet use go through phases like mine? Sometimes I can’t account for the time I loose online and I gladly share all the minutia of my daily life; other times, just checking my email and usual internet haunts is like a chore.

Lately I just haven’t felt like writing, and like anything, the farther behind you get, the more daunting the task of catching up becomes. So here’s just a quick update until I get my groove back (which I have no doubt at all, will happen very soon…)

Last Thursday I was scheduled to audition for a comedic webisode series. Webisodes are really popular right now; you never know when they’re going to hit big, but if they pay, it’s nominal. Thank goodness I had a link to their previous work before I wasted my time auditioning. With the recent Jamie Pressley/ Poison Ivy 3 example in mind, I know you have to start somewhere, but this isn’t it. Check it out here. I can see why some might think these scenes are funny, but the previous female roles have been degrading. It's very one-sided, but what do you expect considering their weekly podcast is called the "Dude Zone?" I'm not judging what they do, but it's just not for me... Plus I'm sure they'd say my breasts were too small! I've previously declined two or three auditions, via email, after reading the script or learning more about the project. It always makes me crazy and I fear I'm turning down a great opportunity, but I ultimately have to go with my gut. In this case, all I had was a phone contact, which is kind of a problem for me...

No matter what you think of the project, it’s really important not to be a no-show. When I first moved here, an old college friend who’s lived here about 4 years and recently started his own production company advised me to fake my representation until I got an actual agent and manager. He said to either do it myself or have my boyfriend do it. He says many actors do that in order to get more respect and better deals. I fear it would have the opposite effect if casting were to realize your agent or manager were not legitimate, and thus haven’t had the balls or extra cell number to do it. In this case though, my combined phonephobia and inability to say no led to the founding of Glass City Management – that’s right, my boyfriend called them to say I had become unavailable.

The ironic part is that literally two minutes after my boyfriend made that call for me, my agent called me with an audition – the agent I don’t like, who had only sent me on one awful audition in three months. I reluctantly returned their call and skeptically listened to the details… “You speak Spanish, right?” “NO.”

An hour later I found myself in a crowded casting office with a Little Caesar’s cap on my head saying, “Cinco dólares por favor!” They had been auditioning all afternoon and I was #120, but that included the leads of the commercial, “stressed out mom” and “giggling kids,” in addition to the role I was auditioning for, “pizza girl.”

The waiting area was congested, especially since it was shared with another casting call that was nothing but kids and the check-in lady was understandably bitchy. I amused myself by observing a stage mom prep her ten year old son. He insisted he didn’t know Spanish. She insisted he could read for both Spanish and English (which I did as well). She muttered, “This isn’t what I expected… this is a cattle call!” He complained, “I should have brought my Game Boy.”

After thirty-five minutes of waiting, first to check in and then to go into the actual audition room, I spent a few minutes saying “Cinco dólares por favor!” twice and “That’ll be five dollars please” four times to a camera and two gentlemen. And that was that. I returned the Little Caesar’s cap to the bitchy lady and got the hell out of there, away from all the children and to the Starbucks down the block as fast as possible. I’m told, though, that in comparison to theatrical auditions in NYC, forty minutes is amazingly efficient.

I did my thing and left with no expectations, thus I was surprised to find out yesterday that I have a callback for the role this morning!

What the hell? This was supposed to be brief! Brevity is just not my writing style, which is why I haven’t felt like writing lately because I haven’t had the time or energy for it to turn into this!

Anyway… to QUICKLY conclude…

I never heard back from PBS, which sucks, but I’ve been plugging along and a few other positive things have come up.

Friday I had an audition for a short film. I’m sure I won’t get the part, but it was a cool experience.

Saturday evening I went out to dinner in Beverly Hills for character research and development with my acting class scene partner. The Beverly Hills experience was wonderful, but nothing like I expected. The meal was affordable and after the fancy stores close and tourist leave it’s a stunning and safe place for a pleasant evening stroll.

Monday I had my usual acting class, which is really a cold read workshop with different casting directors each week. The point is to get your picture and resume in their hands and show them what you’re all about. Lately it hasn’t seemed like I’m on the same page with the teacher of the class and having seen close to a dozen casting directors, nothing had happened yet… BUT, yesterday I got an email from Monday night’s guest requesting that I find her latest independent film project on Actors Access and submit for an audition! FINALLY!

Tuesday I auditioned to be a contestant on GSN’s Bingo America! Funny, I know! I decided it won’t hurt my acting career and could help my bank account, so why the hell not?! More about that later…

Also Tuesday I attended the first free acting class offered by Universal to its Tour Guides. I’m so excited because this is really an “acting class,” as opposed to a casting director workshop, meaning it teaches and works to develop a specific acting technique. Not all the guides are keen on the specific technique being taught, that of Stella Adler which is strongly influenced by Stanislavski’s “Method,” but I think there’s always something to be gained even if you don’t agree with the entire concept.

And with that not-so-brief update, I need to try to get some beauty sleep so later this morning I can be the best damn pizza girl ever to grace a cheesy (no pun intended) Little Caesar's commercial!

(Stop laughing, it’s a paying gig!)

"Free Money" for being a naive hottie!

Remember that “Most Talented Hottie” audition for Microsoft that I didn’t go through with?

After waiting an hour, I gladly left the audition with the valid excuse that I had to get to a performance of a musical I was in… or was it dress rehearsal? Either way, it was a horrible audition my horrible agent had sent me on; they didn’t want real talents, but rather degrading, stupid human tricks.

Having already filled out their paperwork and gotten my $20 for gas, I told them I’d return in the morning. Between the fact that traffic probably wouldn’t have allowed me to make it to that and work training the next morning, in addition to the realization I did NOT want to be a part of it, I did not go back the next day.

You may recall, the incentive was that you got $200 just for auditioning, but you waived all rights to the footage, which could then be used online for what sounds like it will be a really stupid and humiliating contest. I was naive to tell my agent I'd go to something like this, naive to sit there for an hour and naive about traffic the next morning; but it all worked out...

Even though I didn’t audition, I recently got a $200 check in the mail!!! I guess they didn’t cross reference their paperwork with their video footage. I don’t feel bad because that covers the cost of travel time and expense, wait time and emotional anguish! Not to mention that swindling could most definitely be considered a talent of a hottie!!! ;)

Fighting sleep like a baby...

It’s just after 7 a.m. in LA and I haven’t slept yet. I finally got under the covers to try to sleep about a half hour ago, but it isn’t working. Am I tired? Yes, but I just can’t shut off my mind.

I’ve always joked about being an insomniac, but I’m pretty sure this is real. I’d always stay up until 1 or 2, but since moving here that turned into 3 or 4 and over the past few days it’s been 5 or 6. I know I should “pull an all-nighter” to tire myself out so I can go to bed at a normal time the next night, but the trouble is getting through the hours of 6 to 9ish… That’s when nothing’s going on. You can’t run errands yet, but you’ve also exhausted your busy work around the house and online. Right now I don’t feel a second wind coming, but I also can’t sleep.

Has this had a negative effect on my overall success and productivity? Yes, of course. That in turn makes me feel like a huge loser which only contributes to the emotional disparity that is more than likely causing the insomnia. Oh my gawd - make it stop!

Here’s what I wrote to my boyfriend the other day, “I’m fighting sleep for no good reason, just like an infant! I do not want to be on a nocturnal schedule; I hate how it makes me feel and how little I accomplish because of it. I know I’ve always been this way to a degree, but it’s so much worse because I have no reason to go to bed – I don’t have you to cuddle up to or you to wake up beside. In addition to that, it’s almost like staying awake keeps the next day from coming, even though I know sleep will help me face whatever challenges I have the next day, I just don’t want them to come because I don’t want to face them alone…”

You may be wondering, “If you’re awake in the middle of the night, why haven’t you blogged here?” Well, as you may have gathered from the passage above, I can’t seem to get out of a rut I found myself in a couple weeks ago. When your emotions are on overload, it’s hard to make sense of any of them or anything and thus, I haven’t felt much like writing. I’ve still done everything I have to do, for the most part; I worked this week, had an acting class and went on auditions for a short film and a Little Caesars commercial.

I've been here before. I know it'll work itself out when I have a few days in a row with morning things I have to get up for... that just hasn't happened yet. Once again, my dream schedule is a nightmare. Dream, nightmare... if only I could go to sleep and have either one!

How Californians See America

This was forwarded to me by a friend... and I have to say, this is pretty much how I saw it even before moving to LA!

The bad breaks before the "big break"

Believe it or not, LA television is horrible! I don't have cable and the network affiliates out here choose to rerun the worst sitcoms and they play entertainment news shows all the time.

Of course, late night TV everywhere is bad; it's 3 a.m. and I'm watching the movie Poison Ivy 3 (1997).

It's about a destructive seductress, Violet, who returns to a wealthy daughter and father, for whom her mother used to be a maid. She literally works as a dominatrix and sleeps with her childhood friends boyfriend and father, while spinning a web of lies and deceit. Spoiler alert: three of four lead characters die. There's never full frontal nudity (at least not in this TV edit!), but a lot of very suggestive scenes, it's your typical bad movie that you just can't turn off!

As I watch it, I can't help but wonder, "whatever happened to her career!?" One of the hardest things about this industry is knowing what projects to do... What will be a huge success? What will ruin you? It seems to me, the slutty female lead probably went from this movie, to a phone sex commercial...

The boyfriend, on the other hand, is one of those hunks with an Abercrombie model face and perfect, silky hair. He intrigued me, surely with a look like that, he's gone on to do more, so I "imdb-ed him." That stands for Internet Movie Data Base and I don't know about the rest of the world, but among movie buffs and industry folks, that term is as common as "I googled it."

Anyway, I was right, he's Greg Vaughan, who plays "Lucky Spencer" on General Hospital, among other TV and film credits.

As for that crazy, slutty lead character, well, I retract my previous statements because she's the Emmy Award winning "Joy Turner" on My Name Is Earl... Jamie Pressly!

PJS for PBS

By that I mean PJs, as in pajamas, as in what I wore to an audition for PBS today!

Let me explain!...

This afternoon I had an audition to be the side-kick type character for a half hour pilot for a PBS kids show. (Just in case you aren't familiar, in TV talk, a "pilot" is the first episode created, which TV network executives may or may not "pick up" or order more of to air as a series. It's sometimes painful to watch the pilot episodes of your favorite shows because they're understandably rough around the edges and the characters aren't yet fully developed.)

Anyway, PBS kids show is not exactly the career I had in mind, but I figure if LeVar Burton can go from the PBS host of Reading Rainbow to Geordi La Forge on Star Trek: Next Generation, well, then who the hell knows!

Not to mention, you have to take what fits you. Here was the breakdown: "A young woman (age range 18 - 30). She is a “handy-woman” around the house, always fixing things, and helping our main character. She is strong and confident, but feminine, cute, and accessible to kids. She sings songs (singing ability a must) tells stories and leads dances. Must be okay with being silly. She is the strong leading personality that drives this show." Yep, that's me alright!

Albeit happy for me, my mom pointed out, "You don't dance." I replied, "It's not really dancing, it's a PBS kid show, they just sorta hop around, right?"

For todays audition we were asked to showcase our singing and dancing abilities and dress casual. Damn you, LA, and your casual attitudes and wardrobes! What does that mean? It's an audition, an interview; you should dress to impress or to suggest your character! Okay, fine, I told myself that means my character is casual, which makes sense given the breakdown. But I still couldn't bring myself to wear jeans, nor should I wear dress or my typical high heels. I realized a bigger problem was that PBS hosts and characters are all A-sexual, and all my shirts are either spaghetti straps or v-necks; my clothes aren't necessarily sexy, but they show too much skin for PBS.

I only have two T-shirts that I wear in public, so the only thing I could come up with today was to wear my favorite one with a pair of capris and cute sandals - one of my favorite, no effort outfits. The tee is pink, fitted, super soft, extra long and it says "I *heart* my dog" across the front of it. It's literally a red heart made of beads. Truth be told, it's a Victoria's Secret pajama top, but I don't care I wear it out all the time and people always comment and think it's cute. I don't know what breed its supposed to be, but the silhouette of the VS dog and this, and much of their sleepwear resembles a Great Dane, which I have... in Ohio. :(

The audition was in an acting studio space behind the Hollywood Playhouse Theatre Complex. There are lots of theatre spaces in Hollywood, so wasn't surprised to find this was a loudly painted building on an otherwise residential street, off of Sunset, a couple blocks from the tourist mayhem. A narrow path led behind the theatre and opened up to a tranquil courtyard; it was such a quiet, hidden jewel, I would have hung out there for hours, but as soon as I signed in, they were ready for me. I counted the sign in sheet, and was the sixteenth woman. Yikes.

I was told to bring a CD or sing a capella. Instead I took my four inch, highly portable MP3 speakers and iPod. While I set up, one of two men with Middle Eastern or perhaps European accents explained that it's a new show teaching kids to recycle. I believe the target age range is 4 to 6 and I think it's called "Eco," but between the accent and trying to pleasantly take everything in, I honestly don't remember.

They played an electronic accompaniment and sang through the three-line theme song with me twice, then I did it twice on my own for the camera. It was easy - a nauseatingly catchy tune that will have babysitters and parents ears bleeding... I improv-ed the start of the show, "Hi kids!!! Today we're going to have fun learning to reuse and recycle with a good friend, ECO!"

Then I did my prepared performance, a two minute version of "Much More" from the off-Broadway hit, The Fantastics. It's a perfect story telling song that shows off my voice; in it a young girl day dreams of all the exciting things she wants to do, instead of chores, "I'd like to swim in a clear blue stream where the water is icy cold, then go to town in a golden gown and have my fortune told..." It's not the Linda Eder song some of you might be thinking of. I added some appropriate twirls and a grape-vine or two, as that's the extent of my sober dancing.

I did the entire song. Then, they asked me to take my hair out of its low ponytail, so the camera could get that look, since it's down, straight and flowing in my headshot. I sang the entire song, again, with my hair falling in my face! The line "To wear my hair unfastened so it billows to the floor.." didn't make much sense anymore, but how amazing that I did like five minutes of singing for the camera!

They seemed to really like me, but who knows! Now I move on to the next thing... If they call me next week for a callback, great! If not, I know I did my best... and I'll blame it on the PJs.

My job is becoming work. :(

My position as a Tour Guide at Universal Studios is undeniable cool, but it's really stressing me out!

To follow up on my previous post, I consulted with my acting teacher (who, again, is also a casting director) about whether to go to work today or to a non-union no-pay short film audition. He said if I need the money, to go to work, especially considering the films casting director will be a guest in our class later this summer. Of course, the goal with all the casting directors we do cold reads for in class is that they'll call us into their offices to audition for paid work. So I declined the audition and will be tour guiding all afternoon.

I was so busy throughout my Tour Guide training that I never actually wrote about it or the job itself. Some of you may have taken the 'world famous Universal Studios Hollywood Tour' but for those of you (like me) who are clueless, here's the quick and dirty...

175 guests are loaded onto a four car tram and driven through the front and back lots of the actual, working studio. A guide, like me :), speaks to the guests via airplane-like TV monitors and plays video clips throughout the tour.

The front lot is kind of boring, consisting of sound stages and production bungalows. They're not much to look at, but there's the possibility of seeing a star, as the TV shows CSI and LIFE currently use several of our sound stages, movies are always coming and going and production bungalows are where writers, directors and producers meet to develop the next big hit!

The back lot consists of our outdoor, free standing sets. It's amazing how many different things have been filmed in the exact same places; current TV shows, films, commercials and photo shoots use the the same sets where legendary Hollywood icons got their start, and the tram rolls right through it.

Each area has a name - Denver Street are the oldest sets, used for the first silent Westerns; Sandra Bullock just used it for parts of her new film, All About Steve. Another section of Western sets are called Six Points Texas, which is connected to Old Mexico, where the recent Indiana Jones film shot scenes. What we call the Square of Warriors has grand facades used for Rome in Spartacus and Genovia in The Princess Diaries 2: A Royal Engagement, among other things. Little Europe is my favorite because it's just cool looking and has a laundry list of diverse projects that have shot there; you can currently see it on the big screen in Adam Sandler's You Don't Mess with the Zohan. Other examples are all three Pirates of the Caribbean films, All Quiet on the Western Front, The Good German, Cinderella, The Pink Panther, Michael Jackson's Moonwalker video, and TV shows including Heroes, Alias, Beverly Hills 90210... Those are just a few... Little Europe includes the Court of Miracles where monster movies of the 1930s and 40s came to life, including Frankenstien, Dracula and The Hunchback of Norte Dame. The recently charred metropolitan sets also have a unbelievably long filmography, which I am not taking the time to memorize until they're rebuilt! The tram doesn't go down Elm Street, but it includes a house currently seen in Will Smith's Hancock, as well as the To Kill a Mocking Bird house. What is currently Wisteria Lane with all the Desperate Housewives homes used to be called Colonial street and the same homes belonged to The Munsters, Ben Matlock, Freddie Kruger, the Hardy Boys and were seen in The Burbs, Animal House, Providence and Nelly's Delimma video, to name a few... The tram also goes by parts of Whoville from Ron Howard and Jim Carey's Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the Bates Motel and Psycho House from Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho and the realistic crash site from Stephen Spielberg and Tom Cruise's War of the Worlds (which features an actual, wrecked 747 jet).

That may sound like a lot, but to make the tour more entertaining it includes "animations." They're not like cartoons, but rather mechanical features. I can't stand when guests incorrectly call them "rides" because they're certainly not... it's kind of hard to explain... The most famous is probably the Jaws animation, in which the tram stops by an area we call Amity Island, although we later admit it was Cabot Cove from the filming of Murder She Wrote. Anyway, there's a small pond and a mechanical shark pops up. There's more to it than that, but I don't want to spoil it with too many details in case you ever plan to take the tour. We have an animation called "Earthquake," which of course, simulates an earthquake. The King Kong animation was pretty cool, but it's where the fire started and something new will be rebuilt in its place. They haven't announced what it will be yet, but good ole banana breath is not coming back. (A fake banana smell was actually pumped in as the giant mechanical ape roared and shook the tram!) There are a few other animations, but again, I feel bad giving too much away.

I know, I know, it's amazing that I get paid to tell people about all of that! It's a really fun job, but now let me tell you where the stress comes in... The tour usually runs about 45 minutes, but the actual route is always changing. Various areas might be shut down because something's filming there, or an animation might be closed for repairs. Of course there's a map in the dispatch office that shows you what the route is each day; you simply have to know multiple transitions to get you from area to area, depending on the various routes. The greater anxiety comes from never knowing when you're going to "stall." The animations take two or three minutes and you may have to sit and wait for the tram ahead of you to finish, or two trams ahead of you, or THREE! A tram ahead of you may have broken down. Your tram might break down and you have to keep the people entertained while it's either fixed or your guest are moved to another tram. The last time I worked I heard a horror story about a tram having to wait FIFTEEN minutes while the driver of a production truck was located to move it out of the way!

No matter where you are or why you're stopped, you have to just keep on talking and make your guest think that you are supposed to be saying whatever it is that you're saying. Thank goodness there are clips you can play to buy you time, but you have to be familiar with the clip list and know which to play where. The key is your ability to logically transition from topic to topic and clip to clip. I've not yet had to deal with a tremendously long stall, but I have come dangerously close to running out of information, then thankfully we started moving again!

I know it's just a matter of time before a stall horror story happens to me! I had to prove that I could think on my feet as part of the audition process, but when you're out there on the route, sometimes you just draw a blank. Not to mention the fact that I'm not actually a movie buff; I grew up without cable or a VCR in a family that didn't go to the movies! While I think the information is awesome, it does not come organically to me. During our training, they purposely stalled us a bit, but never more than a couple minutes. I know I should be prepared for stalls in every given area of the lot, but I don't feel like I am. As the summer season gets busier and busier, I am more and more nervous about going to work! It's almost like I want an incident to happen to me, so I can have it under my belt.

As a performer I know the only reason why I ever get nervous - it's always due to a lack of preparation. I've spent more time and energy worrying about this than actually studying my material. Like right now, why the hell am I blogging? I have a shift in nine hours, I should be sleeping or reading my three-inch-thick training manual!

So that's exactly what I'm going to do...

Decisions, Decisions...

To work, or go on an audition?

I've said before that I'd explain the online booking websites, so here goes...

First, when it comes to the entertainment industry you always hear "DON'T PAY FOR ANYTHING!!!" Well, that's not really true. That line is used to keep new people in the business from getting scammed. What it really means is that no one can charge to rep you - agents and managers only get a cut of what you make. Like cheesy attorneys, they don't get paid unless you get paid. Similarly, no agent or manager can force you to pay them to take your headshots. However, you do have to get headshots and make prints of them, which can be costly.

Somewhere along the line I picked up the mentality that "If they like you, they'll pay for you!" That's not true either. Pretty people are a dime a dozen, especially in LA. You have to have something damn special for anyone to pay for your plane ticket, your hair cut, or hell, to even buy you a latte! In my case, I still hope to find someone to pay to fix my crooked bottom teeth, but why would an agent, manager or producer do that when there are a million other pretty, talented, wide-eyed brunettes in this town who already have straight teeth?

With this springs writers strike, constant talk of an actors strike, the rising dues for SAG and the popularity of YouTube and webisodes, even getting representation is very difficult right now. So... the key is submitting yourself for projects via booking website, which are something else you have to pay for!

You can subscribe month to month, but like a newspaper, it's smarter to just cough-up the sixty-some bucks, depending on the site, for a years access. The sites have two functions. First, you can upload your pictures, resume and speed reel for casting directors, agents and managers to view. (Uploading the first few pictures are free, then there's an additional cost to add more. Speed reels are clips of your work, I believe they also cost more.) Second, it gives actors access to 'the breakdowns.' What is a breakdown? It's like a wanted ad published by casting directors that gives you all the pertinent information about a project - when it auditions, when it shoots, who the director is, what it's called, what the plot is and most importantly, the description of the roles they're looking to fill.

If you think the role is right for you and the dates fit your schedule, you "electronically submit" for it. With a few clicks of your mouse, your headshot and resume are sent to the casting director to be considered. Some casting offices still prefer hard copy submissions, but the industry is electronic for the most part. It's important to have a really expressive headshot because the casting directors see them in the form of little one-inch thumbnails on their screens, with the hundreds or thousands of others who have submitted.

So anyway, I'm on two booking sites- LA Casting, which is more commercial, with lots of extra work and Actors Access (aka The Breakdowns) which is more theatrical with plays, pilots and short or nonunion films. Of course, big budget films and guest roles on major TV shows don't typically need to use these services; they have contracts with casting offices who send actors who are already in their files to the producers to audition.

After you submit, if they actually want to see you, you get a call or email. Since I only have a super shitty agent that I don't communicate with, this is where my life gets really stressful. You never know when an audition might pop up; they're few and far between, but when they come they always manage to conflict with something else! Once I get a manager, they'll help me make the tough decisions, but for now I'm on my own.

Last week I had an audition for a play in Pasadena, it didn't pay and Pasadena's kind of far from my apartment, but doing plays gives you a reason to send postcards to all your industry contacts saying, "hey, I'm in this play..." They probably won't come see it, but it reminds them who you are. But then, at the last minute, my acting teacher, who is also a casting director offered me a job. It was a $100 gig for five hours or less to give viewer feedback for the new Eddie Murphy film "Meet Dave." Not only did the audition and gig conflict, if the gig ran the full time, I'd be late to the musical I was doing...

Huge stress! Luckily, since it was my acting teacher, he was able to guarantee I'd be out in time to get to my musical and I ultimately decided that if I got the role in the play, I'd loath driving to Pasadena for the rehearsals and I needed the $100. So I did the movie promo; it was really cheesy, but it paid. I'll ask my teacher tonight where and when it will run, because I have no idea.

The delimma today is that I'm scheduled to work at Universal on Wednesday from like 12:30 to 8 p.m. but I just got an audition for a short film at 1:40 p.m. Hhmm... What to do? It's an unpaid, non-union short film, but I need more film credits on my resume. I also need to work!

Tour Guides are part of a union, so our shifts are based on seniority and those of us who are newbies aren't getting many. The cool thing about the Tour Guide position is that it's supposedly flexible for auditions, but that flexibility comes from doing something called "whipping." You "whip" through your tours, forfeiting your union rights to breaks between tours and your lunch. Depending on the day, you usually give three or four tours during your seven hour shift, as they have to give you a fifteen minute break after each and a forty-five minute lunch. When you "whip," however, you must do five tours to get paid for the full shift. It seems kind of stupid since you rarely give five tours anyway, but those are the rules. I suppose I could go to work late and have to give five tours in a row, but I just don't feel confident in doing that! I'm still rebuilding my speaking endurance and I'm not confident that I have enough information to keep the guests entertained when I get "stalled" on the tram out on our tour route. I've been lucky so far, but the more tours you give, the more likely you are to run into issues!

The other option is to call off work, but I don't think a non-paying short film is worth it...

Damn it! I need a manager!

What the hell is this? Homesickness?

My eyes hurt from crying.

You’re probably thinking that I cry about everything – parking spots, furniture, gas stations…I swear, I am tough shit, but it’s the little things that take me overboard. For example, I was perfectly composed through the whole car breaking down and dealing with the tow truck thing. But that was just one of several things that compounded this week.

After a busy Thursday with a video shoot and audition, then giving tours all day Friday, you’d think having nothing I absolutely had to do yesterday would be a good thing. But, no, it wasn’t.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not a morning person and the first thing I have to do in my day is the first thing I do. So on a day I have nothing to do, I do nothing. Yesterday I slept till like noon-thirty and then dealt with emails while instant messaging with my man until two thirty or three. All of this transpired in my bed! In my defense, all I have is a small loveseat. No dining or patio table. No chairs. No where else to really lounge.

You’re probably thinking, “Okay, sounds great! What’s the problem?” The problem is that I felt like a huge loser. I know me – I’m not the motivated person that people seem to think I am. I should have reread a play and memorized a scene for my acting class. I should have been learning more material about Universal, as the busy season creates lots of “stalls” on the trams and I simply do not know enough information to cover my ass. Had I been online sooner I may have gotten some extra work with Disney, I should have mailed some follow-up postcards to casting directors, dropped off my dry-cleaning or at the very least gotten some makeup on my ugly face in time to go to the pharmacy and pick up a scrip. I didn’t even write an entry on one of the million topics I have stockpiled for this damn blog!

It’s a funny thing when self-loathing pours over you – it must take massive amounts of energy to generate the most depressive of emotions, but not a single scrap of energy prevails to actually motivate you to do any of those things you’re so tormented about not doing! I just can’t help but think things like, “To be successful in this industry, you have to be a go-getter! But you’re in pajamas at two in the afternoon…”

At three o’clock my time my boyfriend got off work and we chatted via webcam once he arrived at home. I watched my cat hop onto his lap, carelessly whipping his orange and white tail across my boyfriend’s nose. I started talking about the details of bringing my cat back to LA when I fly home for a friend’s wedding, but when my boyfriend mentioned “[the dog] will miss him,” my eyes instantly filled with tears.

Everything about relocating my cat sooner than my boyfriend and the dog is selfish. There’s no sense in taking him out of a larger home that he’s comfortable in, with an old dog who needs his companionship, only to have to give him some sort of awful sedative for the plane ride, pay a pet deposit and worry that he’d slip out the door under my roommate’s feet. The tears, of course, were not just because it’s stupid to try to bring my cat here, but moreover that I miss everything – the cat, the dog, my boyfriend, my house, my parents, my friends.

I stopped crying and we talked about something else, but a while later I was in tears again. As I dwelled on all the things I should have done that afternoon my boyfriend tired to convince me that I don’t give myself enough credit… That everybody deserves a day off. Funny; he never takes one. I do see his point, but I’m not that busy - I’m not doing that much to justify such laziness.

He showered me with love and compliments and it just caused more tears to run down my face. There was no slow build up of emotion, there was no reason, there wasn’t even anything running through my mind. There were just instant tears.

Again, I’d dry my eyes and move on to another conversation… Then the cat reappeared and to get me to smile my beau sat a shoebox on the floor. After a thorough inspection my cat got in it and curled up, because that’s what cats do. It worked – I smiled. Then I started to cry.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked with frustration, “Is this homesickness?”

I don’t exactly fit my boyfriend's definition of homesick – that being that you not only miss a place and the people in it, but that you’re so uncomfortable wherever you are that you’d give anything to be back in your comfort zone, at the place you call home. I’m actually quite comfortable here; I know this is where my dream career is, and as my boyfriend pointed out, I adapt pretty well just about anywhere.

However, this town is difficult and I’ve had a really rough week. I’d give anything just to have some normalcy. It would be easy and so much more enjoyable if I had my boyfriend’s arms to fall into every night, or even my cat to curl up in my lap purring. It doesn’t matter how much sleep I get, I’m so tired all the time because no matter how hard I try or how much I do, it doesn’t seem like enough.

I don’t feel homesick, because I’ve known all my life that I wouldn’t stay in Ohio. I told my boyfriend, it’s more like the feeling I have when someone dies. That may sound extreme, but that’s what I feel. It’s an emptiness that causes tears to just fall from my eyes without any rationale and a desperate longing to “have things back the way they were.” That doesn’t necessarily mean to be back where I was, but rather to feel what I used to feel and to have what I used to have here with me now. I guess that could be another way to define homesick.

It really doesn’t fucking matter what word defines this feeling, it sucks regardless. It seems like I’ve been in tears consistently every hour or two for the past twelve hours and I’m sick of it. My head hurts, my eyes hurt and it amazes me that I even found the motivation to write this! I think I hoped it would make me feel better, as blogging usually does. The verdict is still out on this one…

Clearly the moral of the story is that I must stay busy as to not make myself crazy with loneliness.

I did get out of my pajamas and walk to the grocery store but I forgot the cookie dough that I went there for! I realized it half way back to my apartment as I sipped my Starbucks vanilla-mocha… So I guess I got my sugar fix anyway, but in terms of emotional comfort food, it was not at all the same.

If I WALK the mile to the grocery to buy more cookie dough, does that make it okay?

I have so much to blog about here...

My first few days of working as a tour guide.
Being an extra on Craig Ferguson.
Being an extra at a certain celebutants reality show.
The audition before my car broke down.
The shoot that came from that audition.
My car breaking down.
The audition for a "pageant think tank."

For now, I'm walking to the grocery. Hey, stop shaking your head at me! I need cheese, cereal and aluminum foil for all the healthy-ass turkey burgers I broil too!

What's worse than the gas prices? The horrid, incessant BEEPING sound the pump makes!

Luckily my car was taken to mechanic very near my apartment, I got the call to get it around 5 p.m. I didn't mind the walk there and the mechanic and attendants were all great.

But after that...

I don't like the idea of using ATMs for deposits; but I finally decided I had to do it because I was always busy during banking hours. At the ATM the other night, I realized I wasn't carrying the card for my new California bank. After getting my car this afternoon I drove around the block to try again only to find my deposit was in another purse. Okay, fine, at least I finally ordered new checks (my bank wouldn't do it online, isn't that odd?).

Then I drove across the street to the grocery store to get detergent and a softener ball. I've been trying to save money, but I'm sick of going up and down the stairs every fifteen minutes while doing the laundry. (Yes, I've decided my building is trustworthy and I don't babysit the washer and dryer anymore.) I had tried Bed Bath and Beyond, who recommended the grocery. Nope.

The frustration began to heat up as it took forever to pull out from the grocery in the hectic 5:30 traffic. Once I did, I couldn't merge into the left turn lane to get to a CVS in the continued search of the softener ball.

I was so pissed as I sped through the intersection. I reached for the condolence of my music, only to find that all my radio presets were changed. What?! That is a breaking point for me! The frustration was at a full on boil as I called my boyfriend to ask if I was justified in going back and ripping the mechanic a new one! No, no I was not (and wouldn't have anyway), radio presets typically disappear when the battery dies or is disabled.

Fine, so now on an unknown side street, I was by no means lost, but I wasn't sure whether or not I had missed the CVS once I got back to the main road. A more pressing issue became finding a gas station as the low fuel light glared at me. I was excited to find a station with Premium at $4.85! During his last visit, my boyfriend had given me a credit/debit card which his company bonuses are issued on with about forty bucks left on it to for gas. All gas stations out here ask for the zip code the card is registered with when you pay at the pump. I entered my Ohio home's zip and then BEEP BEEP BEEP "See attendant" appeared on the screen. I walked to the window and can not even tell you what the exchange was with the man due to his thick accent and failing speaker system. He ultimately told me to try again. I did and BEEP BEEP BEEP "see attendant."

I got in my car, slammed the door and drove the fuck away! As if getting gas isn't painful enough, it does not need to also be a pain in the ass! At this point I was a couple miles away from my apartment. I thought there was a CVS on the main road behind my apartment, but couldn't recall for sure. I drove past a Walgreens and Rite Aid, but again was in the wrong lane and saw them too late to merge and besides, I have a CVS discount club card...

I had called my boyfriend to double check the zip code for the card. Our distance relationship makes him feel so helpless and he can not stand not being able to help me with things. Having taken my navigation device out of my car when I left it with the mechanic, my boyfriend insisted on going online to find me the nearest CVS, which ended up being a few miles the opposite direction.

At this point I decided to continue driving out of my way to get to the Amco am/pm gas station that I've mentioned before. Their gas is a blend of some sort and is therefore always ten to fifteen cents cheaper. I remembered it was a place where you always had to pay first but I had forgotten on critical thing - it's cash or debit only. The attendant glanced at the card I thrust toward him and said "no" in very broken English, "that's no debit, it says Visa."

"Yes, but sometime's they're both, can you just try running it?" I insisted. "Do you know the pin?" he snipped. I rolled my eyes, cursed and huffed away. No, I did not know the pin and I was embarrassed that I had not thought of that important little factor. "Have a nice day" he quipped insincerely as I barreled out the door of his dirty, cheap convenience store.

Had I not been a raging bitch, I could have just gotten my debit card from my purse, but I had had it! As I tried to pull out of the gas station lot and make another impossible left turn, tears welled up in my eyes. I turned right and went down another side street.

At a THIRD fucking gas station, the price was ten cents more than the first. I entered the company bonus card. BEEP "enter your zip code." I hit the wrong number and had to cancel. BEEP BEEP BEEP. I swiped the card again. BEEP "enter your zip code." I did. BEEP BEEP BEEP. "Invalid." I gave up on the free gas and dug my own plastic out of my purse. I hit cancel again. BEEP BEEP BEEP. It did nothing. I hit cancel again. I hit clear, folded my arms and glared at the machine. Not only was I not leaving this this gas station, I wasn't changing pumps.

It eventually cleared and I entered my card. BEEP "enter your zip code." I did. BEEP "select grade." I did. BEEP "begin fueling. BEEP BEEP BEEP "receipt?" I selected yes. BEEP. It printed and then BEEP BEEP BEEP "take your receipt." Oh my gawd!!!

I've noticed this before, but when you're already at your wits end, it was all I could do not to use the nozzle to beat the shit out of the gas pumps digital screen. The beeping is not only unnecessary but SO LOUD and at a mind numbing pitch . It's ridiculous! Why? Getting gas is already an awful experience, it's as if they've made the BEEP to signify the horrifying screams of your wallet.

From there I went to a CVS on the same road as the mechanic, a mile in the opposite direction.

They did not have a softener ball.

I quit!

The hits just keep coming - My car died today!

... In the middle of a busy road, causing me to miss an audition for another musical and my acting class, where I would've done prepared scenes in front of two casting directors. The cause: my alternator.

I bought a tube of cookie dough after getting canned yesterday and finished it tonight! By that I mean eating it raw - so much for being Hollywood-thin!

Details later.

I just got fired AND locked myself out of my apartment – what a great fucking day!

No, I wasn’t fired from Universal Studios; I just wasn’t “asked back” for the fall semester with a company that gives pro-college speeches to high school students.

Once again, I am utterly embarrassed and amazed I am sharing this information. I used to blog to impress, so I'm still adjusting to this idea of blogging reality.

I know what you’re thinking, “But you’re an award-winning public speaker who has worked with pro-college programs for seven years… you’re outgoing, attractive and professional.” Yes, yes I am.

I was not asked back solely based on scores. At the end of each presentation, the students are asked to fill out and return a survey; only about sixty percent do. The school counselors are asked to also fill out a survey with comments and fax it in later; their return rate is even lower.

The company looks at how they rate your effectiveness and the value of the presentation. As you can see, my scores were lower than the company averages, but not by much:

Presentation for Seniors:
Counselor Value: 8.42 (Co. average: 9.51)
Counselor Effect: 8.75 (Co. average: 9.42)
Student Value: 7.73 (Co. average: 8.47)
Student Effect: 7.79 (Co. average: 8.58)

Presentation for Juniors:
Counselor Value: 8.9 (Co. average: 9.54)
Counselor Effect: 8.82 (Co. average: 9.4)
Student Value: 7.96 (Co. average: 8.53)
Student Effect: 8.05 (Co. average: 8.61)

Here’s the thing – I gave nearly forty presentations in Ohio and Michigan and my performance was never addressed; I was never told my scores were too low. The only communication the company had with me was to give the address, date and time of my next presentation.

I honestly thought the company averages were purposely inflated to motivate us! If there are speakers with this company that can get nines and tens out of obnoxious high schoolers, then more power to them! I would gladly admit that I suck and sheepishly step aside, but it’s just so hard to believe! It takes a lot of “good kids” giving you great scores to balance out the bastards that would give absolutely anyone a one or two just to be an ass.

Then, there is the point person – the counselor, principal or sometimes a teacher who is dealing with giving the ACTs, screening kids for drugs and guns, consulting the latest pregnant freshman, oh yeah, and maybe remembering that you’re there to give a presentation… I once totally bonded with a counselor, she praised me and my presentation… then I got my scores from her – fucking sevens. Sevens! Some educators just won’t give an A+ or in my case, a ten.

They also used the excuse that LA is a tougher market and if I was “challenged in Ohio…” Challenged? I never had an incident or complaint and my scores were not that far below average! I just can’t believe this company thinks they could better train someone new than tweak my performance. Not to mention the fact that I'm not getting a free plane ticket home for the fall training, as the headquarters are in Ohio.

I’ve always thought it would be fun to try to get fired on purpose, like George on Seinfeld; this is my first time getting canned and it's certainly not fun. I loved this job and thought I was amazing at it! I just keep reminding myself of what a casting director recently told my acting class, "you're nobody until you've been fired!"

---

So what do you do in California when you’re pissed off and in tears? You take your laptop to the pool, that’s what you do!

BUT – I was an extra at a fancy event last night, which meant I had to carry a tiny purse that only my car key would fit in. Having separated my keys, I grabbed the wrong set. So here I am, a bikini-clad hot mess with only a car key, cell phone, lap top and towel. No shoes. No apartment key.

My super is home, so I can get back into my apartment without any trouble, but what a shitty day!

---

Oh good grief, then when I tried to post this, blogger was down.
I know, I know, I’m in a fucking swimming pool right now, life is good. I could be a starving child in a third world, war torn country…

Sorry folks, as most of you probably realize, I have other blogging obligations this week! ;)

I don't know how people do it - I've been swamped and I'm not even doing that much! I can't wait for a nice relaxing day to catch up on my blogging here!

My first day on the job as a tour guide was last Saturday; I gave three tours and got a dollar tip for my first! Wednesday I was a paid audience member for the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson and I worked a again yesterday, giving four tours. I know it doesn't sound like much, but it's so exhausting being out in the hot sun and I'm still working on getting my speaking endurance back up.

In the coming days I have two auditions and my final three performances for the short musical festival. Until then...

The Desk Debacle

As I’ve mentioned before, I moved to LA with only what I could fit in my car.

No bed.
No dresser.
No desk.
No tables.
No sofa.
Not even a lamp...

I packed in a few small trunks and plastic drawers that could double as storage and decoration, but I had a lot of purchases to make. As I mentioned briefly before, those purchases were a major emotional undertaking!

I became a mental case – one moment thinking, “I have to have a mattress. That’s a basic need,” then the next moment, “But the money I have saved will be gone after just a couple months rent! I can sleep on my roommate’s air mattress for a while longer…”

Then after deciding I was going to buy something, I went from, “I deserve nice things, I’m going to use this every single day.” To thinking, “I should go the cheapest possible route. I could get a mattress off Craiglist… Hopefully the $100 price tag doesn’t mean someone was murdered on it…”

I am extremely thrifty. I love my TJMaxx and Big Lots and I manage to sniff out the deals no matter where I am. So, as I’ve expressed previously, not being able to find the stores I know, or know the stores that are here is insanely frustrating! I spent hours online, trying to locate businesses and identify credible Craigslist deals.

Finally, after a month of going between an air mattress and small futon and feeling good about my final interview for the Tour Guide job, I decided I deserved a gawd damn mattress! In North Hollywood there’s a block with like four furniture stores, one was advertising $200 mattresses on Craigslist. I was skeptical of the quality and first went into a different store, in front of which I had parked. Al’s Discount Furniture. I was feeling simultaneously jubilant about recent successes and fed up with my sleeping situation to the point of apathy. In Al’s I was immediately “up sold” from a full to a queen. “They’re basically the same, so you may as well get a queen.” “Okay,” I blindly agreed, not questioning the fact that I thought they were exactly the same or asking what the price difference would be. The salesman showed me the cheapest mattress in the store and then one quite a bit better and $100 more. I was very blunt about my broke/new in town status and remained reluctant until I got a “for you” price for the better mattress. My boyfriend is a sales manager, so I know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but it was a cheaper quote than the display price.

I sent my boyfriend a text and tried to call him for a second opinion, but didn’t get an answer. I hated the feeling of uncertainty as I completed the transaction. I even joked with the sales guy, “I know I’m your dream customer,” meaning one who makes an instant purchase. I was a grown ass woman, buying something we all need, yet spending that much money made my stomach turn. Back in my car in front of the store I finally got my boyfriend on the phone; his first words were something like, “Why did you let them talk you into a queen?”

My reaction surprised me – I literally threw my precious Coach purse (which had been gifted to me, of course) across my car and screamed “GAWD DAMN IT” as tears welled up in my eyes.

Three thousand miles away and very perplexed, my boyfriend tried to make sense of me, and again, even I was taken aback by my actions. Sure, we all get mad and cuse sometimes, but to literally scream and throw a values possession? What the hell? I haven’t reacted in such an immature manner since childhood.

When it comes to negotiable transactions, there is certainly added pressure not to be taken by the salesperson, since I’m with one and know their tricks. That, compounded by my own genetic tight-ass-ness and self-imposed stress about making the right decisions led to a major breaking point.

As it turns out, I got the mattress, box springs and delivery for like $300 less than it sells for in a department store. But, at that moment, I felt compelled to walk to the store I had originally planned to go to. The fact they were selling mattresses for $200 was not surprising – the place was a complete dump. I would never want to sleep on anything from there. However, I did want a lone desk sitting by the door.

The salesman was very aloof, as I held his Griffin Terrier, I even wondered if he was “slow.” He quoted me either $150 of $195 for the white, made to look antique, hutch style desk, with drawers on the bottom half and shelves in the hutch. I said thank you and left, certain I could find something cheaper. The other stores on the block were equally shitty, making me feel better about my mattress purchase.

I continued checking Craigslist unsuccessfully for a desk and finally decided to take a trip to IKEA. Ah, IKEA. I had heard such wonderful things about it from everyone… and the little bit of me that’s not German is Swedish! My experience, however, is not one I will soon repeat.

At this point, I was looking for lamps, bedding and a desk. The trouble with IKEA is that it’s mainly made up of vignettes, small displays with everything a room would need set up for you to marvel at. That means there isn’t a specific section of lamps, or rugs, for example, to compare prices and styles. You have to have a very good memory or go back and forth from display to display. What a great marketing tactic; I’m sure some people see a display they like and buy everything featured in it, but that is clearly not how I operate!

The bigger problem with IKEA was that it made me feel like a fucking rat in a maze! Unlike a normal store, where you can walk off the main aisle way and through a section, IKEA was basically one winding aisle. A quarter of the way in, I asked where the bathroom was; I had to completely backtrack, then go through the chaotic kids section and cafeteria.

I was hungry and exhausted and my patience was quickly becoming starved too, as the prices were not a low as everyone had made them out to be. Like a normal store, there was a large section of office furniture, none of which I liked. That was when I decided I was done. My feet hurt and I was getting the woozy feeling I often experience in a Super Wal*Mart.

I found an exit sign, but around the next corner, it said Dining instead… To make matters worse, there were children everywhere. Who brings their brats to shop for furniture and home goods? Then I realized I was on the second floor! Down a flight of stairs, the exit signs had completely disappeared. The amount of people around me and endless nature of the store had my head spinning. I was hot, weak and pissed. Finally, I saw a sales associate, and with absolutely no regard for the swarming children, I politely said, “Excuse me sir, GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.” Taken aback, the early twenty year old asked, “Um… are you going to buy anything?” “NO!!!!”

Thankfully there was a Starbucks in the bookstore across the street.

Between the coffee and fact that I didn’t have to move my car, I managed to drag myself into the adjacent Office Max. There, I realized what a great deal the white desk in the crappy NoHo furniture store was. Sure, you can get a computer desk for thirty bucks on Craigslist, but that’s not what I wanted. I have a laptop and use it in bed; I need a desk for storage and display purposes.

Not sure if I’d been quoted $150 or $195, I went back to the store and casually said, I’d take it, “$150, right?” This time, an older Asian gentleman waited on me. His English was bad and he seemed quite frazzled, so I kind of talked passed him to the first guy, who sat on one of the display couches with his shoes off watching TV with the dog. The Asian man left as we discussed delivery; he quickly returned to say I had to pay $250. I knew the desk had been custom made as part of a bedroom set that was not picked up; it was the last of the pieces to be individually sold; apparently it had been the Asian guy’s deal.

I argued briefly with him, “I don’t understand sir, it clearly has 3 inches of dust on it…I’m willing to give you something for it.” He was belligerent and I left. My spirits were broken, knowing I could not find anything I liked as well for as good of a price. As I crossed the intersection, the first guy and his dog pulled up, telling me, “He’s just an asshole; comeback when he’s not here and I’ll sell it to you.”

On three separate occasions he failed to deliver it on our agreed upon time. He never returned my calls and countless times the angry Asian man would answer and I’d have to say “No, you can’t help me, I’d call back.” I even went so far as to have my roommate get a quote on it. The angry Asian told her $299, and that it was originally $500!

In the mean time I had sat the long cardboard box my boyfriend had sent my electric piano in across my decorative trunk and set of plastic drawers. I covered it with a blanket that did not compliment my bedding; if I flipped the blanket up and folded a flap down, there was storage inside. I used Styrofoam from my printer and lamp boxes to enforce the ends so my printer and orchid could sit on top. At first I was so proud of myself. Damn, I’m resourceful! It worked, but it was not ideal, convenient or attractive.

As time passed, I went from proud to depressed. Really? My very existence is a small business, yet I was using a fucking cardboard box as a desk! I knew moving here meant a lot of sacrifices; I’ll gladly eat peanut butter and jelly everyday, but when it comes to organizing headshots and resumes and bills and receipts and scripts and pens and pencils and my stapler, my printer, my pictures, my books, my stationary, my plants… Using a cardboard box was fucking ridiculous!

So last week my boyfriend was in town; while I was at work I asked him to go check out a unique shelving unit I had found on Craigslist for $35. I had already checked and knew I could rent a pick-up truck for $20 for the day. $55 was the absolute cheapest option I had found for something I actually liked. If my printer would fit on it, it would serve the function of storage and display.

My boyfriend reported that it was very heavy and nearly 7 feet tall. “Excellent!” I thought, that makes $35 an even better deal! However, my beau was concerned about getting it up the stairs to my place and that fact that once we put gas in the pick-up, the ordeal would be more expensive than I thought. “Yes, but still less than anything else…”

One of the most difficult things about a distance relationship is that you can’t help one another; you can only be there with words, which often times doesn’t do much good. Once again having the temporary ability to fix things for me, my beau insisted we could surely find something else somewhere else. I know his intentions were well meaning, but my mood was immediately soured. As if I hadn’t looked everywhere there was to look… As if I hadn’t spend hours online… As if it was my fault that they wouldn’t fucking deliver me what I wanted!

So I insisted on showing him the desk they wouldn’t deliver me. Other boxes were piled on top of it, making its size and details difficult to see. Just like my roommate, my boyfriend’s reaction was that it was not worth the money. “Are you kidding me? Have you been to an office store ever in your life?” For $150 at Office Max you don’t even get a drawer!

As we drove to Target to see their at-home-assembly pieces I cried. I cried! First over a mattress and now over a stupid desk! The whole process had just been ten times harder than it ever should be and I couldn’t believe we were wasting part of his visit on that! I was seriously offended that now two people had disagreed with the value of the only piece I had found and liked. As I already knew, the options at Target were more expensive with less storage, and in my opinion, a lower quality. So we dropped it…

LAX is some 14 miles from my apartment; it’s “over the hill,” as we say here in The Valley. Near the airport my interest was peaked by a Big Lots that looked ten times nicer than the one in NoHo that I’ll not go back to and an Office Depot, which I didn’t think LA had. After dropping him off, I suppressed my sadness by going to both stores.

The Office Max had a pile of at-home-assembly Sauder’s desks, as in Sauder’s of Archibald Ohio, originally $99 to $129 marked down to $15. I shit you not! FIFTEEN DOLLARS! There were six or seven styles of desks; again, they were computer desks with limited storage, but I knew instantly one would be going home with me! Luckily, the most stylish desk, with a dark cherry finish and silver hardware had two small shelves and two doors for hidden storage, as well as a matching two-drawer filing cabinet. So for thirty bucks I finally got my storage and display area! My beau can have his credit for fixing my situation, since I would have never been near that store if not for him. The desk came in a box that was probably five feet tall, but only four or five inches thick and was 80 pounds; it barely fit in my car and luckily neighbors helped me carry it upstairs.

Never mind the pride of turning a cardboard box into a desk, I was so impressed with myself that I completely and successfully assembled both pieces in a few hours. Check the pieces out here and here. Can you believe I got those for $15 each!?!

I know this isn’t the most interesting or entertaining blog entry, but it’s an experience worth recording. As I keep saying, everything is just more difficult here and this is a classic example. Not to mention that it finally marks a sense of completion for me. I’m no longer sleeping on an air mattress or living out of a suitcase or cardboard box. Sacrificing and being resourceful is an attribute of successful people, but I think actually having resources and organization from which to work will allow me to be even more successful!

I Survived My Weekend!

I have had the most exhausting past few days!

Lots of work.
Three performances.
Little sleep.

I'm not scheduled to work this coming week, but have acting classes Monday and Tuesday nights; I plan to follow the call-in procedure to possibly pick up extra shifts at work, but am really looking forward to a few days to relax! I'll be able to catch-up by writing about my first day on the job as a tour guide, going postal over postcards and finally resolving a desk debacle...

I'm so tired!!!

Friday

9 a.m. to 5p.m.: Work (Safety training... ugh!)
6 p.m.: Musical rehearsal for a stand-in actor
8 p.m.: 7th of 12 shows

Saturday
8 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.: Work (My first day of giving real tours!!!)
8 p.m.: Musical

Sunday
2 p.m.: Musical
Later: Rehearsal with my acting class scene partner...
When am I going to memorize those lines?

I'm Officially a Universal Studios Tour Gude!

This morning I passed my certification and am now officially a Universal Studios Tour Guide!

I tested in the first of three groups and was randomly selected to do the very beginning of the tour, which is probably my least favorite... Nevertheless, our entire group of eight passed. Another group will test this afternoon and the final "guidelings" will go on Thursday.

Everyone else in my group got a long lunch and were then getting wardrobe, ID photos and such this afternoon. Luckily, they let me leave early and I'll do all that on Thursday. Instead I'm spending time with my visiting boyfriend. So why am I blogging...?

Bye!

Feeling like a kid again... and not in good ways.

Earlier this week I felt like a college student again...

Tuesday night I found myself at an iconic diner downtown in the wee hours of the morning, having gone to karaoke night with acting classmates again. Wednesday night I pulled an all-nighter studying Tour Guide material since we had to be "off book" Thursday. It was just like college - I'd always procrastinate all day long, then get the energy and motivation to write papers or speeches around 10 p.m. and then stay up all night getting it done. Surprisingly, I was fine at training all day Thursday, I'd even argue that running on the adrenalin of no sleep made me better than normal.

I know, I know... it's not healthy and it's not a habit I plan to get into. It really came back to bite me yesterday when I worked all day then had to get to the second weekend of my show. We didn't rehearsed this week, so everyone was a little rusty and energy is low because our audiences are pretty small. So if anyone is in the LA area, please look up "The 10s" and come see it!

After the show I had to rehearse one of the musicals I'm in because we're switching from a live pianist to recorded accompaniment. The composer recorded a faster tempo for pretty much everything, so I fear tonight will be really rough!

My onstage boyfriend, who is in both shows I'm in, and I tried to meet up with another cast mate and her boyfriend for food, but had no luck. You'd think in any big city that things would be open late, but at 11 p.m. on a Friday, all the kitchens were closed. Unlike NYC, LA goes to sleep early, so we went back to the onstage b-fs place instead.

Talk about feeling like a college student - He recently moved into a house with a couple other roommates, one of whom has tons of gorgeous inherited antiques. I felt like I was in a mature atmosphere again, as opposed to my unfinished living area that has only a love seat and no dining table, or my bedroom where I'm using a cardboard box as a fucking desk and my bedding which was a sale brand usually targeted for teens and dorm rooms.

Being back in a home, with complete furnishings, a new washer and dryer and pets made me feel so empty and depressed. At the same time though, I was so excited to be hanging out with great new people. After we had gone country line dancing at the gay bar last Friday, I had joked with my real boyfriend that "Operation make _____ and _____ my new best friends" was moving along nicely! All joking aside, I can't stand feeling this way - like a nerdy looser who just wants someone to like them. I've never had a lot of friends, especially female friends, but I have always had a serious boyfriend to spend my time with so the lack of other friends didn't really matter. Since my boyfriend isn't here though, I am experiencing a longing for companionship that I haven't felt since adolescence.

It's a feeling I do not enjoy. Especially last week when I thought I had really fucked up my friendship with my onstage b-f... After last Saturday's show I was getting in my car to leave and two little girls from another show ran out to me, "Can we ask you a question?"

"Sure," I replied with a smile, since the adoration of little girls is something that is normal to me. "Are you and that guy really boyfriend and girlfriend, like in real life?"

I laughed and in a very "Karen Walker" ala Will and Grace tone I said, "Oh honey, he's gay!" After a short moment of surprise the girls joked that all the nice and cute boys are alway gay... as if they'd already experienced it.

The next day I was eager to tell my onstage b-f the "funny story," actually I had wanted to call him after it happened, but restrained. My heart sank when instead of laughing he just looked at me and said, "You outed me to ten year olds?"

"Well I thanked them," I backpedaled, "because we must be convincing onstage." To which he quiped, "They're ten, they'd think anyone who kissed were together."

I, of course, apologized profusely, "I'm so sorry... I guess I wasn't thinking, I thought it was funny and it just came out..." Adding in a last line of defense, "I think they're more like twelve and they're theatre kids in LA, so it's not like they don't know what gay is!"

In Ohio, people who know me know I'm extremely sensitive to race, sexuality and religious issues. I believe in complete equality; though I was raised in a small conservative town, my nephews and niece are all bi-racial and one of my brothers is gay, so I can't stand bigotry. That being said, among certain groups of friends certain types of jokes were understood... Here in LA, I feel like my values and what I thought I knew about myself are unraveling. IE: the post about the Hispanic construction workers in North Hollywood and now this gay issue...

I feel like people are getting the wrong impression and I keep putting my foot in my mouth about issues that I'm usually on the other side of! I want to say, "It's cool, my brother's gay and I appreciate the beauty and sexuality of everyone...and I never want to get legally wed in part because the marriage laws in this country are bullshit..." But I can't, and won't say that, until it comes up organically because I know how naive it sounds. It's like claiming you can use the N-word because you have "a black friend." No. No, you can't.

Anyway... hanging out last night made everything seem okay again. Of course, anytime your feet are dipped in a backyard pool that feels like bathwater, with a six week old pug puppy on your lap, life is good.

What makes life even better is that my boyfriend is flying into LA tonight! I have to rush from my show to the airport and he'll be staying until Wednesday afternoon. Thank goodness! I can stop feeling like a kid who needs friends and live in the normalcy of sharing my life with my one true companion... at least for a few days.