Howdy howdy howdy!
Tomorrow, we open for our first show of the School Tour! I'm fired up, boys and girls because we did our dress rehearsal today and were finished in record time! I really feel that we are ready for this run! I'm actually excited. As opposed to sick with worry and insecurity, which is a good thing. I'm really proud of this show. You have to come and see it at Black Theatre Workshop on February 25th. It's free, I think. And free is always good. I'm a big fan of free.
And I can't believe we're finishing rehearsal early today. I don't know what to do with myself!
I could go home, but then I'd feel guilty for not running my lines and cleaning my bedroom, which I really don't want to do.
I shouldn't go shopping, because I'm trying to save money (although the chances are still pretty good that I'll do it anyway), so I could do something like catch a movie, which I haven't done in ages, or go get a pedicure (it's been forever, and my feet are turning into hooves) or I could go and park my butt down in Indigo for a marathon reading session.
Mmm...sounds like good, clean, free fun. (And you know how I feel about free stuff.)
Ah. I know I'm not going back to the gym, because that would be obsessive...I'm finally back on track with my eating and exercising, and being balanced about it. I don't work out like a marine these days, since I don't have all t hat unresolved anger and misery that I was feeling last summer. Which reminds me that I still have unfinished business on that front to take care of. Well, it's not on my plate right now, so I'll deal with it when it's time.
Oh yes, it's looking like Indigo will be the way to go. Maybe I'll shop there. No I won't! I'll be good.
And then I'll go home and do all that responsible stuff I really should do. But most of all, I'm going to to get lots of rest. And be fresh and so clean, clean for tomorrow. We start bright and early, but not obscenely so. Which is cool.
So, please give us a call when you can. I know my cell is always off and goes straight to the message, but it would be tacky beyond words if it rang in the middle of a performance. I know you understand. And I promise to call back. Meet me halfway, okay? You know my love and affection is unabated, it's just that my attention span, sadly, is what it is. I'm soon going to have some hanging around time for the people I love, so call me and set it up. First come, first served!
Hey, Dad's finally back from Africa! I missed him so much! This poor man goes through all kinds of adventures (of the embarrassing, uncomfortable and vaguely hazardous and unsettling kind) when he goes overseas. If you know my dad, call him and show him some love! And yes, I am practicing what I preach. Just so you know.
Stephanie is doing so amazing these days! We've been on a diet together, and exercising. Let me tell you, in the beginning, she called me Coach, and it wasn't the gentle motivational kind. I was kicking her butt (so she says). Now, she's the one who's motivating and inspiring me with her diligence, her discipline and her perseverance. She's kicking my butt. And it's cool. I like this mutual support deal. I kind of always wanted to be the lone wolf, because somehow it feels really cool when you know you've reached your goals on your own steam. But you know what? It takes a lot longer to do it that way, and quite frankly, it's not a bad thing at all to be grateful to someone else's hand in your victory. So this is T-Bone saying, "Thank you, thank you Stephanie. You are the wind beneath my wings..."
Heh heh, ain't it always the way? You don't hear from me for ages, and then when you do, I blather on and on and on. I love you amigos, don't give up on me, okay? Stay in touch, because I need you, and I need to know when you need me too. Then I can help. Which I want to do.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Breathe, Stretch, Shake, Let it Go
Did anyone see American Idol last night? It was painful, irritating, rarely funny, and only fleetingly gratifying. You look at these crazy people who come dressed up as the Statue of Liberty, or howling like dogs and ask yourself : why are they even showing up at these auditions? Either they want their 30 seconds of fame (read: infamy) on television, or their friends and family lie to them, telling them that they are really good. And as I watched the two hour special, I could feel my shoulders creeping up beside my ears.
And I ask myself: why am I watching this? I'm afraid to examine too closely the side of me that is willing to watch and mock others, and to masochistically wade through the trough of bad notes. The fact that these people willingly seek this kind of humiliation out somehow doesn't make me feel absolved of my part of guilt. I can't laugh at people's disappointment and disillusionment. It's too reminiscent of experiences I've had in the past, and it touches on my deep-seated fears for my future as a performer. Let me tell you something: Auditioning sucks. The only time it's not a stressful experience (thus far) is when you don't give a hoot about the outcome. In which case, why show up in the first place?
I've decided to skip the cattle calls for the next few weeks and wait and see what happens once they all get to Hollywood.
I woke up today to a crazy, drippy, freezing, rainy morning. My shoulders shot right back up around my ears.
Let me tell you: Puppies, I have witnessed the darker side of humanity this morning.
It has taken me one and a half hours to get to work today. An hour longer than usual. And this was with a cab. I thought I'd spring for the extra 5 or six bucks from the subway just to avoid the rain, treacherously icy sidewalks (why wasn't there any salt today?), and the crush of the bus (because I sure as sugar wasn't going to actually attempt to walk up the matterhorn that is Jeanne Mance). Partway up the hill in the cab, we had to back down again, because there was an accident at the top of the hill.
So we took another route about seven blocks away, and don't you know, there was yet another accident on that corner. Once we finally negotiated our way around it (16 dollars and twenty minutes have rolled by on the meter by now) and started up Aylmer, which is yet another hill, although less steep, we began to skid backwards all the way back down the street, and were not able get any traction. Homeboy had neglected to install his winter tires.
Ten minutes later, the cabbie is spewing a string of Creole profanity at top volume, waiting for one of the cars behind us to back up a foot and half so he could try to build up momentum. I finally lift my head out of my hands to see two people slip and fall down on the sidewalk and to see a TV camera filming our pitiful attempt to get up the hill. I wish I could say that I was able to appreciate how funny we must have looked. I confess that I seriously struggled against the desire to flip the cameraman the bird and ruin his shot. But the important thing is finally, we made it up the hill!
The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful, save for a few people trying to hop in our cab everytime we stopped at an intersection. I never thought I would fear the elderly, but this one lady filled me with an unholy terror when she banged on the window. Still, the poor thing. She was wet, and cold, and exaperated. And yet, I still locked the door. (Crazy wench wasn't going to get me, no sir.)
When we pulled up in front of the MAI 30 minutes or so after leaving Place des Arts Metro, the cabbie stopped the meter and looked back at me expectantly. I looked at the meter and looked back at him. I don't have the heart to tell you the final total cost of what was supposed to be a four block trip amounted to. It only took him a moment to catch on and decide to only charge me ten bucks for the whole ordeal.
Which is a good thing, you know, because I didn't want to begin my day of rehearsing a play about loving black people by committing violent, black-on-black crime before 9 am in the morning. Why do I ever take cab rides anywhere? You'd think I'd have learned my lesson how badly a simple, ten-minute ride can go awry.
Oh...right, because I'm lazy. I knew there was a good reason.
And I ask myself: why am I watching this? I'm afraid to examine too closely the side of me that is willing to watch and mock others, and to masochistically wade through the trough of bad notes. The fact that these people willingly seek this kind of humiliation out somehow doesn't make me feel absolved of my part of guilt. I can't laugh at people's disappointment and disillusionment. It's too reminiscent of experiences I've had in the past, and it touches on my deep-seated fears for my future as a performer. Let me tell you something: Auditioning sucks. The only time it's not a stressful experience (thus far) is when you don't give a hoot about the outcome. In which case, why show up in the first place?
I've decided to skip the cattle calls for the next few weeks and wait and see what happens once they all get to Hollywood.
I woke up today to a crazy, drippy, freezing, rainy morning. My shoulders shot right back up around my ears.
Let me tell you: Puppies, I have witnessed the darker side of humanity this morning.
It has taken me one and a half hours to get to work today. An hour longer than usual. And this was with a cab. I thought I'd spring for the extra 5 or six bucks from the subway just to avoid the rain, treacherously icy sidewalks (why wasn't there any salt today?), and the crush of the bus (because I sure as sugar wasn't going to actually attempt to walk up the matterhorn that is Jeanne Mance). Partway up the hill in the cab, we had to back down again, because there was an accident at the top of the hill.
So we took another route about seven blocks away, and don't you know, there was yet another accident on that corner. Once we finally negotiated our way around it (16 dollars and twenty minutes have rolled by on the meter by now) and started up Aylmer, which is yet another hill, although less steep, we began to skid backwards all the way back down the street, and were not able get any traction. Homeboy had neglected to install his winter tires.
Ten minutes later, the cabbie is spewing a string of Creole profanity at top volume, waiting for one of the cars behind us to back up a foot and half so he could try to build up momentum. I finally lift my head out of my hands to see two people slip and fall down on the sidewalk and to see a TV camera filming our pitiful attempt to get up the hill. I wish I could say that I was able to appreciate how funny we must have looked. I confess that I seriously struggled against the desire to flip the cameraman the bird and ruin his shot. But the important thing is finally, we made it up the hill!
The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful, save for a few people trying to hop in our cab everytime we stopped at an intersection. I never thought I would fear the elderly, but this one lady filled me with an unholy terror when she banged on the window. Still, the poor thing. She was wet, and cold, and exaperated. And yet, I still locked the door. (Crazy wench wasn't going to get me, no sir.)
When we pulled up in front of the MAI 30 minutes or so after leaving Place des Arts Metro, the cabbie stopped the meter and looked back at me expectantly. I looked at the meter and looked back at him. I don't have the heart to tell you the final total cost of what was supposed to be a four block trip amounted to. It only took him a moment to catch on and decide to only charge me ten bucks for the whole ordeal.
Which is a good thing, you know, because I didn't want to begin my day of rehearsing a play about loving black people by committing violent, black-on-black crime before 9 am in the morning. Why do I ever take cab rides anywhere? You'd think I'd have learned my lesson how badly a simple, ten-minute ride can go awry.
Oh...right, because I'm lazy. I knew there was a good reason.
My shoulders are only just beginning to relax now, but I really do wish I had a handy manservant to give me massages. Where is that Julio when I need him?
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Eye of the Tiger
Good morning, Darlings!
Last night I saw the conclusion to the season premiere of 24. Oh yeah, it's ON, baby! But can we just take a moment of silence for the loss of President Palmer? Brother, you hung in there for three seasons before they killed you off. That's gotta be a record somewhere.
I've just returned from the gym and am now enjoying the few calm moments I have left before rehearsal. When I got there this morning, I was so tired, I wished I was dead. (No, really.) My theme song was "I don't like Mondays," even though it's Tuesday. It felt like a Monday.
But upon leaving, I felt charged! (Dun! Dun-dun-dun! Dun-dun-dun! Dun-dun-dunnnnn!)
So, I'd better make the most of this calm time before my ridiculously exhausting rehearsal today (this, more than anything convinced me of the need to get back in shape, I thought I was going to hyperventilate at one point yesterday) and get to work on my lines. Ah, I look forward to tonight, when I shall have no plans more rigorous than collapsing onto my sofa to watch American Idol. Judge me if you dare.
Last night I saw the conclusion to the season premiere of 24. Oh yeah, it's ON, baby! But can we just take a moment of silence for the loss of President Palmer? Brother, you hung in there for three seasons before they killed you off. That's gotta be a record somewhere.
I've just returned from the gym and am now enjoying the few calm moments I have left before rehearsal. When I got there this morning, I was so tired, I wished I was dead. (No, really.) My theme song was "I don't like Mondays," even though it's Tuesday. It felt like a Monday.
But upon leaving, I felt charged! (Dun! Dun-dun-dun! Dun-dun-dun! Dun-dun-dunnnnn!)
So, I'd better make the most of this calm time before my ridiculously exhausting rehearsal today (this, more than anything convinced me of the need to get back in shape, I thought I was going to hyperventilate at one point yesterday) and get to work on my lines. Ah, I look forward to tonight, when I shall have no plans more rigorous than collapsing onto my sofa to watch American Idol. Judge me if you dare.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Aaaaaand....we're back!
Hello Beautiful people, and greetings for the New Year!
Atlantic City was a trip, let me tell you. I met some mafia people on our final night at the casino, which convinced me that more than ever, I do need a break from that line of work. All I have to say about that experience is that the days of black folk on the auction block are PAST. Sisterfriend ain't for sale. Can I get an amen?
Anyhoo, I got home and the moment I let myself relax, I caught a cold (ain't it always the way?). So honeychile, I slept and slept and slept and slept. With brief breaks for eating and other kinds of sloth in front of the DVD. But don't think for a moment that that week was unproductive. Oh no. I managed to find time to give to others. Namely my cold. To Stephanie. (Sorry, Mommy!)
So this week has been a big one! If you know me, you know that of course I'm working stupid hours (that's just how we do. Keeps me out of trouble and probably makes me feel like I'm doing something useful instead of just taking up space, I dunnno) but I'm having fun. Constantly learning!
And feeling like I'm in over my head to a certain degree. Which is not a bad thing in the sense that I'm really open to learning and observing. I'm a bit intimidated by the company that I'm keeping which gets me a bit stressed and nervy. I just need to relax and be here and not try so hard. I think it's the switch in mentality from being a student and striving for grades and being a professional and just reveling in the process, in the experience of being an actor. Good Lord, I'm getting paid to act! Shoot, I'm getting PAID! That in and of itself is wicked.
Anyway, gotta run. (Big surprise.)
Atlantic City was a trip, let me tell you. I met some mafia people on our final night at the casino, which convinced me that more than ever, I do need a break from that line of work. All I have to say about that experience is that the days of black folk on the auction block are PAST. Sisterfriend ain't for sale. Can I get an amen?
Anyhoo, I got home and the moment I let myself relax, I caught a cold (ain't it always the way?). So honeychile, I slept and slept and slept and slept. With brief breaks for eating and other kinds of sloth in front of the DVD. But don't think for a moment that that week was unproductive. Oh no. I managed to find time to give to others. Namely my cold. To Stephanie. (Sorry, Mommy!)
So this week has been a big one! If you know me, you know that of course I'm working stupid hours (that's just how we do. Keeps me out of trouble and probably makes me feel like I'm doing something useful instead of just taking up space, I dunnno) but I'm having fun. Constantly learning!
And feeling like I'm in over my head to a certain degree. Which is not a bad thing in the sense that I'm really open to learning and observing. I'm a bit intimidated by the company that I'm keeping which gets me a bit stressed and nervy. I just need to relax and be here and not try so hard. I think it's the switch in mentality from being a student and striving for grades and being a professional and just reveling in the process, in the experience of being an actor. Good Lord, I'm getting paid to act! Shoot, I'm getting PAID! That in and of itself is wicked.
Anyway, gotta run. (Big surprise.)
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