Can’t seem to sleep. Brain’s still too active – it’s crackling, like a slow-burning log on the fireplace. Can’t sleep until it’s out. Been a few high-energy days in a row, and I guess it’s taking a while to calm down today. Figured I might as well blog until I start to ember.
I think one of my next projects is to put together my acting resume and get some headshots. I really think I need more of this acting stuff in my life, and it’d be great to do it for a real audience and maybe even not have to pay for it. The classes are great, for sure, but they’re a) expensive; and b) exclusive – as in I can’t invite friends into the audience. I’d love to be in something that people can actually come see. So I’m going to get headshots, a resume, and start auditioning.
Yikes.
Comedy hasn’t fizzled out completely, just been stoking the actor fires a little more frequently. Although I did think of a new bit today in the gym. Gotta work on that one before I forget it. Could add to the five or so minutes I’ve already got, then tighten up the whole thing & make it my first set. That, my friends, could happen this summer. THIS SUMMER.
YIKES.
I would love to go back to my ten year reunion & say I’m married, live in San Francisco, am gainfully employed, am acting, AND am doing a stand-up routine. That would be a proud day for me; I don’t care how good Hylton’s soccer career is going, I’ll still be proud.
Hylton. Hmmph. I’m interested to see where he ended up. Big heart he had. Even bigger brain. His ego was rumored to match, though I can’t say I ever saw much evidence of that. But if that’s what he had going for him, I hope he put it to good use. Either to good use, or to pursue what made him happy, which, apparently, may have been farming, soccer, and lots of Bibles. I’ll bet the bookshelf in his bedroom has at least three versions of the Bible on it. He’s probably only read two.
OH! So this one dude in my acting class completely blew off his final scene & his scene partner. He gets the Douche Bag of the Month Award. Let’s call him Douchey Le Dickbag. Mr. Le Dickbag waited until the first week after scenes had been assigned, and then just STOPPED attending class. And never bothered to tell his scene partner until he randomly showed up at one of her culinary events TWO DAYS AGO. They were supposed to do their final scene next week, and he tells her on Tuesday, “Oh, yeah, I dropped that class.” Now she has to rehearse & deliver a two-minute monologue that she’s never seen or heard before. In six days. I have faith in her ability to pull it off, but I just hope SHE’S convinced she can do it – otherwise, the whole thing could turn her off from acting altogether, which would be a shame because I can tell she likes it & would probably do some pretty great stuff if she kept at it. But now all that’s at risk because of Douchey’s ultimate dose of up-fuckery.
He’s dead to me. No, I’m serious. That’s just a completely irresponsible attitude, and all this shit is just supposed to be FUN. If you don’t want to do it, don’t take the damn class! Don’t risk a scene partner’s experience and slough it off like it’s not a commitment you’re breaking. Shit’s too important to people. Take some frikkin’ accountability, you frikkin’ troll doll. (Literally – this douche LOOKS like a 5’9 version of a Troll Doll, with hair that makes him seem 3″ taller.)
Alright. Rant over. I’m off to dream of a world where people don’t rob from the bank of scholarly trust.
