What I did today? Look at a screen all day. TV, iPad, cell phone, computer. I read things, I listen and blast to my newfound music findings. I doubt Justice is much of a find if it's because I've been out of the music loop for the last few months. I mean after my obsession of music-fest 2010 (Scissor Sisters! Kylie Minogue! ROBYN), or maybe because Britney, Gaga, and Beyonce's albums all failed to deliver, my gay hopes were crushed. I've been stuck in the past musically. Sam sparro at LA pride gave me a boost, (WHEN ARE YOU COMING OUT WITH YOUR NEW ALBUM YOU SEXY AUSSIE TEASE!?) but otherwise I've felt lost. I mean how the hell did I miss the news that Florence + the Machine's album is coming out next week, or that Justice's new album was out at 10:08pm last night? I technically have a music blog and all I've wanted to post was 2009 Goldfrapp and Joni Mitchell, and who the hell has Joni Mitchell epiphanies anymore?
I've been relying on a steady income of sugar and meat recently, which does wonders on my immobile sack of "muscles" and skin. At least I move around when I'm getting ready to see a play. Oh wait, that leads to me sitting on a bus (or the other half of the time, a $12 cab ride), then sitting for 3 1/2 hours. Not that it's not entertaining stuff, because an adaptation of an O'Neill adaptation of a Greek tragedy is just meant to be seen. What could possibly be more depressing than a bleak, pill-addicted 1930's playwright adaptating an ancient greek tragedy trilogy filled with familial murder and suicides? One of the upgrades of contemporary theatre from the 400's BCE is the inclusion of violence and death onstage. And of course lots of crying (and drooling, in this instance), so it's a pretty full package.
Justice. Rocks my veins. Unintentional arena rock with their off-the-charts basslines? I practically bit my lip just listening to "Horsepower" the first time. "Ohio" is nice too, especially since it reminds me of my boyf. Is that stupid, to abreve boyfriend? BF is ambiguous (best friend? Boy friend? Beast friend?) and plus I feel like I'm in HS ferRealzies. I got a msg 4 u, boyf is the abreve du jour. Plus those harmonies for the first 40 seconds feels like I'm listening to "Bohemian Rhapsody" sent to us from an alternate, probably-more-French universe. It's a little over the place, but if you could focus for 4 minutes you wouldn't overlook the journey you're on.
Phew, I did something today? Back to my apartment so I can sit on my ass again. Finish some Chardonnay. It's not drinking alone if Nathan Fillion and Sean Maher are there to comfort you with their smooth, polished manfaces. Umph. PS Joss Whedon filmed his own version of "Much Ado" with said actors and other Whedon alums. I have no idea when it'll be out, but I'm so on board. It isn't even my favorite play either, which makes me even more pumped to see it.
I confused a man carrying dry cleaning for a drag queen with a bright silver cape. Probably my West Hollywood reality being superimposed on my Less-Gay Chicagon reality.
Oct 24, 2011
So, How Are Things?
It's hard for me to say what exactly I've done since moving to Chi-Town. A lot and a little, I guess.
I moved, in a literal and metaphorical sense. #hadto #iguess
I've had Mexican food! But 80% of the time it's been Chipotle.
Visited Ohio. When the nearest grocery store is 11 miles away, you live in "bumpkinville," as my mother calls it.
Lots of Hulu and Netflix time. I'm halfway through "Firefly," and I'm surprised Netlix hasn't developed "Movies Based on Literature Featuring a Strong Female Lead" or "Social And Cultural Documentaries On the GLBT Movement in the United States" categories yet. But if you haven't started, watch "Up All Night." Christina Applegate, Will Arnett and Maya Rudolph are all so top-notch right now. Maya Rudolph knows how much fake-Oprah to channel into her character, and Christina Applegate showcased her acting chops on last week's episode "Birth."
Seen 10 productions! I count them as "nights out," and therefore a valid excuse to publicly drink Chardonnay by myself on a Wednesday night. Or a Saturday afternoon. Or whenever. The point is I'm being inspired to kick ass... once I actually start doing artistic-y things.
Favorite productions have been:
In the Next Room, or the Vibrator Play at Victory Gardens (feminism, technology, orgasms and relationship quarrels using electricity analogies? Gimme more, Sarah Ruhl)
Behanding in Spokane at Profiles (artistic crush on Martin McDonagh. Dark comedies turn me on)
Clybourne Park at Steppenwolf (racism in the 21st century = lots of uncomfortable jokes)
Runner-up: Mourning Becomes Electra at Remy Bumppo. (If there was a Netplays, I'm pretty sure I'd have a "Classic Dramatic Theatre with Strong Female Leads" cue. Fuuuuuuu.
Been job searching. My goal is to have one before it's been 10 months, like that one time in a certain West Coast metropolis. I'm hoping to get into writing on a daily basis, because I need an excuse to blast music in my apartment. #firstworldproblems
Since I actually have my first improv class in months (FINALLY), I actually might have something substantial to write about. I do plan on actually writing more on this blog in the near future, as well as indulging more in my YouTube channel. You'll hear more about it when it's ready.
Uhhhh, schlemiel?
I moved, in a literal and metaphorical sense. #hadto #iguess
I've had Mexican food! But 80% of the time it's been Chipotle.
Visited Ohio. When the nearest grocery store is 11 miles away, you live in "bumpkinville," as my mother calls it.
Lots of Hulu and Netflix time. I'm halfway through "Firefly," and I'm surprised Netlix hasn't developed "Movies Based on Literature Featuring a Strong Female Lead" or "Social And Cultural Documentaries On the GLBT Movement in the United States" categories yet. But if you haven't started, watch "Up All Night." Christina Applegate, Will Arnett and Maya Rudolph are all so top-notch right now. Maya Rudolph knows how much fake-Oprah to channel into her character, and Christina Applegate showcased her acting chops on last week's episode "Birth."
Seen 10 productions! I count them as "nights out," and therefore a valid excuse to publicly drink Chardonnay by myself on a Wednesday night. Or a Saturday afternoon. Or whenever. The point is I'm being inspired to kick ass... once I actually start doing artistic-y things.
Favorite productions have been:
In the Next Room, or the Vibrator Play at Victory Gardens (feminism, technology, orgasms and relationship quarrels using electricity analogies? Gimme more, Sarah Ruhl)
Behanding in Spokane at Profiles (artistic crush on Martin McDonagh. Dark comedies turn me on)
Clybourne Park at Steppenwolf (racism in the 21st century = lots of uncomfortable jokes)
Runner-up: Mourning Becomes Electra at Remy Bumppo. (If there was a Netplays, I'm pretty sure I'd have a "Classic Dramatic Theatre with Strong Female Leads" cue. Fuuuuuuu.
Been job searching. My goal is to have one before it's been 10 months, like that one time in a certain West Coast metropolis. I'm hoping to get into writing on a daily basis, because I need an excuse to blast music in my apartment. #firstworldproblems
Since I actually have my first improv class in months (FINALLY), I actually might have something substantial to write about. I do plan on actually writing more on this blog in the near future, as well as indulging more in my YouTube channel. You'll hear more about it when it's ready.
Uhhhh, schlemiel?
Sep 10, 2011
Why I'm Moving
Here's the long answer.
Last October I had a full day of Second City-ness: sketch writing class in the morning, lunch with classmates, afternoon drop-in improv class with my most favoritest teacher, and a 4-show evening for $4. Marvelling at my own dorkiness while strolling down Hollywood Blvd, (I'm glad that this wasn't the time that meth-head begged me for change) my feet hit the concrete corner at Highland Avenue. An anvil fell to my core: Something. Is not. Right. Is this a square peg in a round hole I see before me? I stared at the lights blaring from both the El Capitan cinema and the Hollywood & Highland Center. This is the tourist heart of LA, where the original Red Carpet is lain and walked upon by unweighable talent, and my atoms aren't vibrating like they do in Times Square. I'm not a wide-eyed Xtina arriving on a bus with the Hollywood sign on the windows' reflections, hoping to "make it" as a dancer working at a club owned by Cher. The search began.
September 2009. Senior year at Chapman. I'm taking a mere 12-credit term, with 3 of those credits belonging to Pilates, ballet, and voice lessons. Graduation is so close and yet so far. The big question that lingers is "Where are you moving to after graduation????" Most of my theatre peeps want to move to Hollywood. Many of them picked Chapman because it was close to LA in the first place. My original choice was "anywhere but LA." It's way too big and gross and dirty and I'm not hot enough to be cast in anything, not even amateur porn. Alas, I cannot deny that there are acting opportunities in general. Everyone knows someone with a camera, and every once in awhile people actually do do plays. Good plays with meaty roles so you can send dozens of invitations to casting agents that WILL cast you in TV roles and national commercials! What's not to like? I figure I ought to give it a shot. Maybe I was missing something that everyone else sees.
Apparently I still do.
Let's rewind one more time. The first time I went to Chicago I was 17 years old. I was visiting colleges that had solid undergrad theatre training, DePaul University in this instance. In my mind I had to juggle thoughts regarding the program and the university, the city itself, and awkward-damage control having recently come out to my parents ("They have a gay-straight alliance." Dad, stop being so supportive!!!). I found it to be a nice town, but nothing really stood out at the time. I had other things on my proverbial plate, like which colleges to apply for, coming out to the rest of my school and doing SENIOR YEAR RIGHT. It was serious stuff that demanded my full ADD-length attention span.
So when I considered places to move after graduating into "the real world," I glanced over what Chicago had to offer, like a killer theatre scene with five Tony award-winning regional theatre companies (Steppenwolf, Goodman, Victory Gardens, Chicago Shakespeare, and Lookingglass). The home base of improv / sketch comedy in the US. Delicious food to help you survive those notorious winters. Public transit that actually gets you around town and is affordable and not too sketchy. A bustling city with greenery that doesn't have to be found in dispensaries. And people that don't worry about feeding their obese egos. I got to experience this first hand last November, and had my feelings confirmed in July. A metropolis that didn't have the attitude problem of either NYC or LA? It was like a glass of cucumber ice water during a 113-degree sweat fest.
And to be blunt, I'm not ready for LA. I'm not a professional (yet), and LA is a town for professionals. I don't feel like I can grow here. It's go hard or go home territory. Chicago will whittle me down and build me back up, and not just because the weather is atrocious. I'm such a floater and I'm ready to get grounded by people who are dedicated to doing it right. I need discipline not "industry talk" BS. Not to mention I'm not confident for the camera, to the point where you can almost consider it a phobia. If I'm still learning my craft onstage and that's my comfort zone, how can I tackle it with a heightened level of anxiety?
Don't get me wrong. A part of my soul belongs here in southern California, and always will I'm sure. I did spend grade school in Colorado, but for the other 18 of my 23 years of existence, I've been nestled in a land of eternal sunshine and Botox and hipness (and here in West Hollywood, a land of eternal rainbows). A part of my soul belongs to theatre and acting. There's something so pure about being with people, live in a room with you, breathing the same air as you, and revealing the raw power of the Imagination. Not just the Imagination of actors, but of directors and light and costume and scenic and sound designers and writers. And in some cases, dancers and choreographers and composers and librettists and musicians. It's miraculous. A part of my soul belongs to comedy. There's a release in laughter. The best comedy is that which reveals a Truth, but surprises simultaneously. It makes me feel that everything is gonna be OK, even when it's not. It reminds me this is all ephemeral. It reminds me how non-important everything is.
I've left my California-soul have control for too long. Theatre-soul and comedy-soul must leave the nest to grow up and not be intimidated by their elder. Once those three can get along, then and only then will I truly be at Home with myself.
Or perhaps the bone-chilling winter winds will whisk me away back to LA in, say, three months.
tl;dr: didnt give Chicago a chance, didnt realize how cool it is, need time away fom Cali
Last October I had a full day of Second City-ness: sketch writing class in the morning, lunch with classmates, afternoon drop-in improv class with my most favoritest teacher, and a 4-show evening for $4. Marvelling at my own dorkiness while strolling down Hollywood Blvd, (I'm glad that this wasn't the time that meth-head begged me for change) my feet hit the concrete corner at Highland Avenue. An anvil fell to my core: Something. Is not. Right. Is this a square peg in a round hole I see before me? I stared at the lights blaring from both the El Capitan cinema and the Hollywood & Highland Center. This is the tourist heart of LA, where the original Red Carpet is lain and walked upon by unweighable talent, and my atoms aren't vibrating like they do in Times Square. I'm not a wide-eyed Xtina arriving on a bus with the Hollywood sign on the windows' reflections, hoping to "make it" as a dancer working at a club owned by Cher. The search began.
September 2009. Senior year at Chapman. I'm taking a mere 12-credit term, with 3 of those credits belonging to Pilates, ballet, and voice lessons. Graduation is so close and yet so far. The big question that lingers is "Where are you moving to after graduation????" Most of my theatre peeps want to move to Hollywood. Many of them picked Chapman because it was close to LA in the first place. My original choice was "anywhere but LA." It's way too big and gross and dirty and I'm not hot enough to be cast in anything, not even amateur porn. Alas, I cannot deny that there are acting opportunities in general. Everyone knows someone with a camera, and every once in awhile people actually do do plays. Good plays with meaty roles so you can send dozens of invitations to casting agents that WILL cast you in TV roles and national commercials! What's not to like? I figure I ought to give it a shot. Maybe I was missing something that everyone else sees.
Apparently I still do.
Let's rewind one more time. The first time I went to Chicago I was 17 years old. I was visiting colleges that had solid undergrad theatre training, DePaul University in this instance. In my mind I had to juggle thoughts regarding the program and the university, the city itself, and awkward-damage control having recently come out to my parents ("They have a gay-straight alliance." Dad, stop being so supportive!!!). I found it to be a nice town, but nothing really stood out at the time. I had other things on my proverbial plate, like which colleges to apply for, coming out to the rest of my school and doing SENIOR YEAR RIGHT. It was serious stuff that demanded my full ADD-length attention span.
So when I considered places to move after graduating into "the real world," I glanced over what Chicago had to offer, like a killer theatre scene with five Tony award-winning regional theatre companies (Steppenwolf, Goodman, Victory Gardens, Chicago Shakespeare, and Lookingglass). The home base of improv / sketch comedy in the US. Delicious food to help you survive those notorious winters. Public transit that actually gets you around town and is affordable and not too sketchy. A bustling city with greenery that doesn't have to be found in dispensaries. And people that don't worry about feeding their obese egos. I got to experience this first hand last November, and had my feelings confirmed in July. A metropolis that didn't have the attitude problem of either NYC or LA? It was like a glass of cucumber ice water during a 113-degree sweat fest.
And to be blunt, I'm not ready for LA. I'm not a professional (yet), and LA is a town for professionals. I don't feel like I can grow here. It's go hard or go home territory. Chicago will whittle me down and build me back up, and not just because the weather is atrocious. I'm such a floater and I'm ready to get grounded by people who are dedicated to doing it right. I need discipline not "industry talk" BS. Not to mention I'm not confident for the camera, to the point where you can almost consider it a phobia. If I'm still learning my craft onstage and that's my comfort zone, how can I tackle it with a heightened level of anxiety?
Don't get me wrong. A part of my soul belongs here in southern California, and always will I'm sure. I did spend grade school in Colorado, but for the other 18 of my 23 years of existence, I've been nestled in a land of eternal sunshine and Botox and hipness (and here in West Hollywood, a land of eternal rainbows). A part of my soul belongs to theatre and acting. There's something so pure about being with people, live in a room with you, breathing the same air as you, and revealing the raw power of the Imagination. Not just the Imagination of actors, but of directors and light and costume and scenic and sound designers and writers. And in some cases, dancers and choreographers and composers and librettists and musicians. It's miraculous. A part of my soul belongs to comedy. There's a release in laughter. The best comedy is that which reveals a Truth, but surprises simultaneously. It makes me feel that everything is gonna be OK, even when it's not. It reminds me this is all ephemeral. It reminds me how non-important everything is.
I've left my California-soul have control for too long. Theatre-soul and comedy-soul must leave the nest to grow up and not be intimidated by their elder. Once those three can get along, then and only then will I truly be at Home with myself.
Or perhaps the bone-chilling winter winds will whisk me away back to LA in, say, three months.
tl;dr: didnt give Chicago a chance, didnt realize how cool it is, need time away fom Cali
Sep 25, 2010
LIVE BLOG: My Generation
You guys, this show looks so bad I had to watch it. For some reason, whenever there's way too much advertising for something, it means it's gonna be really bad. Mike Meyers' "Love Guru" had commercials all the time and ta da! It was awful. I didn't see it, but from what I heard about it, the overall response was negative. Just for fun, I counted the ads for it on Santa Monica Boulevard between La Brea and Fairfax. Five ads. 2 billboards and 3 bus stop ads. There are ads EVERYWHERE in West Hollywood for this show as you walk towards the bars, filled with generic quotes such as "You know this ring comes off, right?" accompanied with a picture of a Kim Catrall doppelganger, or "Dad, I'm done paying for your mistakes." Ooooh, so edgy. It's just begging to be awful. So I decided to play a drinking game as well: drink whenever it's awful. Let's see how horrible it really is. Wooooo!
Sep 10, 2010
Sketch: She's a Witch!
This is my first sketch I've ever posted publicly, so this is an experiment. If you like it it, I'll post more in the future. If not, then this will be the last. But let's find out.
[Lights up. There is a LEADER speaking to its FOLLOWERS.]
LEADER: Now that we have gathered our numbers here at Saddleback Church, brothers
and sisters, let us share what we have done this past week in the name of…
ALL: THE KU KLUX KLAN!
Sep 6, 2010
Actor Talk: Crying
Any real actor knows that you don't have to be able to cry on cue in order to be good. You could cry by eating an onion before the director yells "Action!" but it would be superficial, not honest to the moment you are playing. You can tell when the tears are fake. I had heard this adage before, but it finally hit me on closing night of my last show, Southern Baptist Sissies by Del Shores.
Aug 31, 2010
LIVE BLOGGING: "Funny Girl"
Something I plan on doing on a semi-regular basis is watching movies I haven't seen before / for a very long time, and do live commentary on them as I watch. It's like Mystery Science Theatre 3000 but typed out. Perhaps you can watch the movie and read my commentary as you watch along! Whatever, I'm just excited to finally see old-school Barbra work it out!
Let's do this.
Let's do this.
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