Where did September go?

I can't believe it's October. I can't believe it's really October. I feel panic in my chest at this thought, because it means that my visa paperwork is due in Korea in less than a month. It means that I'm leaving New York in six weeks. It means that I uproot my life once again and put myself in a situation that's guaranteed to make me uncomfortable and triumphant. It means I can't stall any longer.

***

The strangest thought just jumped into my head as I listened to "Ready, Able" by Grizzly Bear: I'd like to evaporate right now. What a strange thing to want. I suppose it comes from my desire to hit pause, to suspend myself in this moment where I have free time, where my only responsibility is making it to the library for Writer's Group this afternoon, where I don't feel hungry, where this lovely music is making me smile. I see my atoms drifting apart and hovering in the sunlight streaming into my room. I'm just mist, if only for a moment. Then everything congeals, snaps back together, and I go on with my life. That snapping back together thing might be a little painful, doncha think? Exchanging the lightness of vapor for the sticky heaviness of corporeality (no, that's not a Dictionary word, but I like it anyway).

No, I'm not drunk, or going nuts (at least not sanitarium-worthy nuts). Just being honest. Can you tell that I did my morning pages today? I'm always a little freer after my three-page free write.

***

Kidlings, I have no idea what else to say here. I think it's time to start a new blog. This one has been good to me, but I don't know what to say anymore. The actor thing is boring me at the moment, so I don't have any topical content. And I feel bad writing about non-actory things in a blog geared toward acting. I'm compelled to communicate, but I have no idea if anyone wants to hear what I have to say; screaming into the void and all that.

I think my job stole my creativity. I like the people I work with, but I can't remember the last time my creative reservoir felt so empty, and I think it's my job that did it. I don't want to wish away any of my time here on Earth, but if suddenly all my living expenses were paid, I could walk away from that job without a second glance. My brain is slowly turning to mush and making me think that mushifying is enjoyable: sitting in front of a computer all day, staring at spreadsheets, answering the phone, eating lunch, skipping lunch, riding the subway, going to bed at nine, waking before the sun just to shower and put on clothes to stare at a computer screen all day. This life is like a tranquilizer, and I only start to really wake up on Sunday afternoon, but then it's back to walking zombie on Monday morning.

Hm. This is a really great song.

Sting, Josh Groban, & Chris Botti

So beautiful.

Monday, Monday

Refusal
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Bah dahhh, bah dah dah dah... (video)

It's still cloudy and rainy. There was a patch of sunlight streaming down through the skylight at work for about 10 minutes. Since then, clouds clouds clouds. I'm contemplating buying a sun lamp. I might need to start popping Vitamin D. Are my knees starting to bow? More than they do, that is?

I have no excuses as to why I'm not actively pursuing Acting Things right now. I can't even blame it on the weather. I suppose I could say that I'm taking some time off to try other things and figure out what it is that I really like to do with my time (other than sleeping and eating and reading).

And now, I will continue reliving those few weeks when I held my own illicit listening sessions to my sister's tape of Tragic Kingdom via Last.fm.

I Know You're Totally Jealous

I Know You're Totally Jealous
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Wow. Teenage girls love them some Jonas Brothers.

Worked a private concert yesterday for the clients of Netjet and MarquisJet. Hundreds of screaming little girls in attendance.

There was a projection screen above the stage that said, "Text the Jonas Brothers at 612-***-****!" (612?) The sent messages would then scroll at the bottom of the screen. One message said, "I'm saving myself for you! Meet me backstage!" Whoa.

"You should be in the movies."

Or at least in a music video.

Zach Braff is directing Jay Clifford's music video for "Know When to Walk Away." It's simple: you download the song, learn the lyrics, record yourself performing the song, then upload it to the site.

DO IT. I haven't decided yet if I will, but you should.

And if nothing else, you get a free song. Free is good, no?

http://www.jaycliffordmusicvideo.com

I can pretend that I'm in a jazz club, I have lots of money, and that I don't have to move in a few weeks.

In the vein of not being depressing, this made me smile. If you hate jazz, don't bother watching.

Whenever I hear that song I have to stop what I'm doing and enjoy it. Whenever I hear that song I tell myself, "You need to buy that song, album, whatever." It makes me feel relaxed and (sorry Mom and Dad) sexy, and I should own a song that prompts me to feel good. I tell myself, "Explore the rest of Dave Brubeck's work. It's probably really good." (If you've guessed what the song is after those little hints, congratulations. You've earned a fish biscuit.) (If you know the "fish biscuit" reference, congratulations. You're a junkie like me.)

Steve Perry tells me to be good to myself. I shall listen.

This entry is brought to you by the band Journey, who gave me the strength to actually approach my blog and type something.

I've been avoiding you. Yes, I have. I'm sure you can tell. I haven't written since a week into my New York sojourn. I've been avoiding you because I've felt like there isn't much to say. Or rather, what there is to say is negative, so I didn't want to say it.

New York is hard. It's really hard, and at the same time it doesn't feel any different than Minnesota. New York is hard because I work all the time. Like, seriously. All the time. Some days that makes me really angry, some days I think, "Well, it's money." New York is hard because you're constantly confronted with people who have money to burn, bury, or bathe in (especially in the area of town in which I work), and you're barely scraping by. New York is just like Minnesota in that I go to work, I come home, and I watch television and snack for four hours before I go to sleep - that is, if I actually have four hours before I go to sleep as opposed to falling into bed at 2 in the morning after work. New York is just like Minnesota in that I'm not really auditioning at all.

Which brings me to the next bit of information that I'm not sure what to do with. It's sitting there, like a lump of unknown foodstuffs. I keep poking it experimentally, but I don't want to pick it up because then I'd actually have to do something with it. Or drop it again. I'm not sure I want to leave it alone, but I definitely don't want to pick it up. And what I mean by that incredibly long metaphor is that I'm tired of the hustle that is being an actor. I know, I know, I've said I've contemplated quitting it all before. But please don't discount this time or those as mere threats: my feelings are real, whatever they are at the moment I'm expressing them.

So, yeah. Acting. Not sure how I feel about it. See, there are these Actor's Equity audition calls called "Equity Prinicpal Auditions," or EPAs. Producers who have contracts with Equity must hold EPAs. For the most part, the casting directors and director know who they want for the roles, or have a fairly good idea of the pool they wish to pull from. So EPAs are like bobbing for apples. Maybe you'll get lucky and make contact with the right apple at the right time and your teeth will be sharp enough and quick enough to grab it, but most of the time you'll just come up sopping wet, unhappy, and empty-handed.

EPAs are exciting to some people: they love sitting in a crowded room for hours (if they're not union and can't get an audition slot) waiting for the possibility of a chance to audition. This scenario is not for me. I honestly think I'm too old. For example, I went to a non-singing EPA on Tuesday. I woke up late and knew that I wouldn't get my first choice as far as audition slots, but I was ok with that. I figured, "Oh well. So I'll have to sit there for a while. Or come back between shifts at work. No big deal." I walked down the hallway lined with young hopefuls, and around another corner lined with young hopefuls and into the holding room to hear the girl in front of me being told by the audition monitor that they're already on alternates. All the slots are full all day. My turn came. I considered placing myself on the alternates list, but then I thought, "You know, I'm not going to come back up here just to see if maybe I'll get to be seen. So not worth it." So I said, "Thanks, but no, thanks," and I left.

As I walked out of the building, I laughed to myself. I had the thought, "I don't think this is for me." Which could mean that hustling for acting jobs, period, is not for me. Or it could mean that I need to find another way to be around the performance world. And I think it's the latter. EPAs are well and good, but I'm beyond expending that much effort for such slim odds (and pickings). The funny thing is that I had to come to New York to realize that.

New York is hard, but I'm not ready to give up yet. I have an apartment share starting in January and a new direction (even though I'm not sure what that direction is).

In other news, how much do I love Journey? Go watch the "Separate Ways" video. It'll make you laugh, and yet you will be intrigued by the ease and grace with which Steve Perry hits those high notes. Then go watch the concert version of "Don't Stop Believing". Journey rocks.

Basilica Block Party

My friend Nate's band, 2 Wurds, was one of the finalists for the Basilica Block Party Battle of the Bands, and they ended up being one of two winners. Nate asked me to work the merch table for them, and in exchange, I got into the concert for free. Sweet!

Originally I didn't have a guest pass and thus did not get to go hang out backstage with 2 Wurds. However Clarence - who's real name is Nate - did a little wrangling at the press booth and I got a media pass, which enabled me to saunter on backstage and hang out with the cool kids. Woo! Backstage! Thing was, it was so nasty out that the other bands kept to their air conditioned tour buses when they weren't performing. After G. Love's set, though, he came out to sign autographs and take pictures.



Check it out on Flickr.

Blogger made me do it.

You probably won't notice anything different, but Blogger made me move my blogs to their new service, which requires me to create a Google account. It's relatively painless, but I'm getting older and more rigid in my ways. Flickr is trying to do the same thing to me. I only have until the 15th of March with that one.

But enough complaining about technology. It's snowing again. They're expecting 10 to 12 inches on top of the 10 or so that we got last weekend. I don't know how I feel about this. I'm glad we're getting some much needed precipitation, but man. I don't want to shovel anymore. Sunday afternoon was bad enough, what with the 50 minute aerobic and strength training workout. Amazingly enough, I wasn't sore.

I'm a ramblin' woman tonight. My brain is probably rebelling from coherent thought because it knows that I should be searching for images and music for my residency tomorrow. And I just found the album that I must have. I don't want to buy it on iTunes, though. They'll keep me from moving it around on various computers and other media platforms. That's annoying. Stupid iTunes, all convenient and stuff, then ruining it by tightly controlling usage.

Alright. I think I'm going to see if I can find the songs I like for free. Naughty me.

Sleep tight, munchkins.