Work.

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My body has decided that now is the time to overthrow its master.

The last eight months of my life have been incredibly stress-riddled and my immune system had graciously been granting me an easy time of it (with the exception of a few migraines and a thrown out back).

The day I signed off and signed out one final time, my throat started to feel kinda funny. I tried to brush it off as “dry air” and maybe sleeping with my mouth hanging open directly in front of my fan (no AC, hello LA heatwave).

But then my nose started to leak a little bit…and then a little bit more…and now I feel like a dam is about to burst and the citizens living in the valley need to evacuate.

The fog that’s currently obscuring my mental vision is keeping me from writing anything truly fancy or inspirational. Honestly, this blog post is just an excuse to have a pity party that I know at least 3 other people may read. THANK YOU THREE PEOPLE.

BUT–and that’s a big ol’ “BUT”– I swore to myself that when my last job ended, I would hustle even harder than before to get words on paper, to start creating and making, and generally force myself to stay on the grind.

With that in mind, I purposefully parked my car in a zone that required me to move it within two hours of the moment I parked there. I set my alarm for 1 hour and 55 minutes and then promptly sat down to watch Netflix.

PRODUCTIVITY (?).

When I saw the remaining 30 minutes on the clock slowly ticking down, I wrenched myself out of my chair, and pushed my body into the shower.

Growing up, I was always the kid in the family who refused to get into the bathtub. My poor mother would beg, cajole, and then eventually threaten me to get in. I’m assuming I thought baths were a waste of time and I had more important things to do like play or read or makeup songs on my kiddie-keyboard even though I didn’t know how to play it. Good personal hygiene was for the weak.

Whatever it was, I despised this basic and necessary daily ritual. When my mother finally got me in and wrestled me like an alligator to wash me, I would then refuse to get out of the tub. I would stay in playing with my toys and with my washcloth until the water became ice cold and my mother had to drag me out.

Nothing has changed.

Today was the same.

I ended up snatching myself out of the shower after only 20 minutes (miraculously), threw on some clothes without even really looking at what I was adorning my body in, and left my apartment.

AND THEN–

Lo and behold, a golden parking space of opportunity shone forth: a parking spot with unlimited time and RIGHT in front of my apartment.  These babies pop up only once a millennium, or so it feels like. Could I waste this moment and ever recover emotionally?

“What if,” says me, “I park in that spot, go upstairs, wallow in my oncoming disease, and take a nap.”

“No,” came my short response.

Well that settled that.

I got myself over to that coffee shop and here I sit–I’m making a writing schedule, sending off emails, responding to texts that it’s taken me an egregiously long time to respond to, and wondering why the guy sitting next to me at the community table must sit so damn close IT’S A HUGE TABLE, MISTER.

Hold me accountable, y’all. Time to work.

 

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This Lavender Chai Latte didn’t disappoint!

 

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The First Day of the Rest of My Life

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I was thinking of a title for this blog post and the one I landed on was the first thing that popped into my head.

Something about it, though, made me think that I’d already used it as a title before (but I’m too lazy to go back and search). The reason for this being that, on multiple occasions, I’ve literally said to myself, “this is the first day of the rest of my life”.

After college, I boldly stepped into the Washington, DC nanny world (and got kicked in the butt with my first job)–knowing that I wanted to boost my resume before I moved out to LA so I could wipe baby butts for a day job. I shot out of a cannon 1.5 years later and landed in Los Angeles. Most recently, I tumbled head first into the world of celebrity assisting.

And today, after 5 years in Los Angeles, I make the moves to pursue acting and writing full time.

My assistant job ended, the movie now complete from my former employer’s end of things, and all things considered, I would say the experience was absolutely invaluable.

I learned a lot about the industry, I learned a lot about film production on a big budget scale, and I learned more about myself than I went in thinking I would. You really don’t know what you’re made of until you’re tossed into less than ideal situations and are told to make your way out with a broken compass, spotty cellular reception, and a short string of dental floss.

But I did it, I’m on the other side, stronger than I was back in January, I’m completely out of debt, and I’m ready to get this show on the road–or the screen, really, because I’m not interested in doing touring theatre.

This is the part when I break into cold sweats, wake up every three hours at night panicking about the future, and start to compulsively eat as much junk food as my stomach and poor acne-riddled countenance can handle.

And I did that for a little while but then I woke up this morning, the first day where I get to go H.A.M. on this crazy dream, with so much determination that I almost feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience.

And I think I’m so dang pumped to make moves because it feels like the Universe is conspiring to help me achieve my ultimate goal.

As soon as I got back from traveling with the film production, my old nanny families pounced and scooped me up for every available hour I was willing to give them. I was referred to a few new families and a couple of new freelance assistant gigs. Thankfully, gloriously, money isn’t going to be a huge issue. A struggle, yes, but I feel like I can make this happen.

Most exciting of all, and the reason I know the Universe is on my side: a brand new friend, not officially associated with the industry in any way, referred me as an actor to one of her friends that works in the casting world. Even if nothing comes of it, the fact that she referred me has single handedly spurred me forward into the unknown with confidence and excitement.

Do you know how hard it is to get a referral out here?!

Really damn hard.

People in this industry usually aren’t willing to go out on a limb for you unless it directly benefits them. Rarely do people at the top extend a hand backwards and pull someone up from the bottom. Hopefully things will not always be this way, but it’s what I’m working with now.

I refuse to focus on that aspect of the monster to which I’m currently attempting to sacrifice my life.

Instead, I’ve been getting really quiet with myself over the last few weeks. I’ve been trying to objectively look back at my journey over the last 5 years. I’ve been trying to see past what I didn’t achieve and look at what the heck has happened.

The common theme: I’ve moved forward, never backward.

Every negative thing that’s happened to me out here in La La Land has acted as an electric shock to keep me from veering too far off of the path I’ve chosen for myself. It’s kept me focused on what I want, kept me from being sidetracked by my Plan B and Plan C, all the way to Plan Z (I don’t actually have that many alternate plans. In fact, the only one I currently have is to move into the woods and be a hermit writer).

My time is now, I can feel it, and I can’t wait to share every step of the way with you guys.

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5 Years Here and I’m Feeling…OLD.

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I’m coming at you a month late with this one, but I have been in LA 5 years.

FIVE YEARS, PEOPLE.

And now when I tell new people I meet that I’ve been here for FIVE YEARS, the first comment is always “WOW, that’s such a long time,” and then I fall to the ground and curl up in the fetal position.

Because no starving artist miles away from their intended destination likes to be reminded of JUST how much time they’ve been at it.

I’m still working on embracing the “big 5” and I think writing out this blog and seeing my progress will help…right? RIGHT?!

Let me take a little second to drop the link to the summary of YEAR 4 for a little comparison. See where the Short and Feisty one was a year ago before sinking your teeth into this one.

Without anymore preamble, let’s jump right in to this year, shall we?

Things I HAVE accomplished:

  • Worked my first personal assistant job on a big budget studio feature.
    • Survived said job with very little (physical) scarring–I came home in one piece, and I’m counting that.
    • Made a ton of new friends with the other assistants/crew members on the project.
  • I PAID OFF MY CAR LOAN.
    • I am officially debt free and it feels MAGNIFICENT.
  • I’m still in the same apartment, though I didn’t live in it for 6 months of this year. I’m beating my previous record, anyway!
  • I only had one truly severe panic attack within this past year–
    • It happened on a plane, in the lavatory of all places, and I thought I was going to die, but PROGRESS.
  • I wrote the first three episodes of a web series, made a pitch video, and it’s currently being considered for a competition. Keep your fingers crossed for me!
  • I’ve started the perilous task of getting rid of half of my belongings by the end of the year. I’ve collected so much stuff over the last 5 years and I’m sure I don’t use at least half of it, so it gotsta go.
  • I visited: England, Scotland, Greece, and New Zealand this year. I also spent time in Hawaii, almost all of those destinations through work.
  • I SIGNED WITH A TALENT AGENT.
    • This is BY FAR the best news of the entire year because it is the BIGGEST THING that makes me feel like I’ve actively made progress in my acting career. I’ve convinced someone that I have what it takes, now I just need to get out on some auditions to prove them right.

Things I’ve learned:

On Work:

  • Gain as much experience as you can in whatever industry your interested in, but never forget what your ultimate goal is.
    • Make decisions that best serve that goal. You may be tempted to veer off into another path for a number of reasons (usually more money for survival) but don’t do it. Eyes on the prize.
  • Never depend on others to get you where you need to be. Honestly, the only person you can count on is YOURSELF. That probably sounds more harsh than I mean it to, but it’ll keep you from being disappointed when others don’t pull for you.
  • I learned this next nugget of knowledge from a producer and it’s honestly what keeps me going out here in LaLaLand: BE. PATIENT. Shit doesn’t happen overnight, y’all.
  • Still working on finding that work/life balance. I’ll get it right someday.
  • Never stop hustling. Ever.
    • Work as many jobs as you can. Only buy things that’ll genuinely be useful and make you happy. Write those web series. Submit yourself to auditions. Hustle.

 

On Hollywood and The Grind:

  • Leap.
    • The net may or may not catch you, but if you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, LEAP. It somehow paid off well for me this time around. And the next time I take a leap, I’ll have a wider view on which to base my decision.
  • Trust sparingly.
    • Probably my biggest industry takeaway of the last year. There’s no harm in being skeptical of others, especially when you don’t know their motives.
  • Trust your instincts.
    • Unless your instincts are buttholes and lead you astray. But then again, if your instincts told you one thing and new information is making you change your mind, that’s ok, too. Don’t be mad, just change your perception and make better decisions next time.
  • Assistants are hard ass workers and being a part of that small group really taught me the most on my adventures.
    • You can tell how a person truly is by the way they treat their assistants.
  • When working as an assistant, your principal’s life becomes your life.
    • You have to make a concerted effort to pull yourself away from the inbox often or you’ll go bananas.
  • Costume, Hair, and Makeup have the most fun on a set because they’re the most fun/nicest people.
  • It’s ok to have days that’ll make you feel like running away to a remote island where you and the sheep are the only residents.
    • Breathe through those days, minute by minute, and the next day will most likely be better. Or maybe the next day will suck even more. But the day after that holds hope and hope is what you’ll live on in LA/NY.
  • You set the tone for how you want others to treat you.
    • Go in to any new relationship sending the signals for how they should behave with you and speak to you. If they’re not getting the signals, that’s not your fault. Keep sending them.
  • The industry is trying to right their wrongs with their lack of intersectionality. Trying in a very slow way, but I’ll be here when they decide to speed that shit up.

 

On Love:

  • Crickets in this department this year.
    • Refer to last year’s post if you need some wisdom on that front, because all I learned this year is that I’m getting more comfortable with the idea of being a spinster.

 

On Life: 

  • You know you have good friends when they’ll listen to you groan, complain, and outright panic over the phone and over texts and they don’t tell you to STFU.
    • I am seriously lucky in this department.
  • You very genuinely do NOT have to take other people’s shit.
    • You might feel like you absolutely need to, in order to further your goals. Chances are, though, if it involves getting beat down that much…probably not the right path for you.
  • You can always work a little bit harder, put in a little bit more effort, and reach a little further. But don’t beat yourself up if you don’t feel that way everyday.
  • I NEED TO BLOG MORE.
    • I’ve gone to some absolutely astounding places over the last year and I didn’t document it as well as I should have. I need to work on that.

 

Biggest Takeaway of 2017:

I may not be living what I consider to be my BEST life, but I certainly am living an INTERESTING life and I need to remember that.

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That’s me! On a mountain top in the Southern Alps of New Zealand.

 

NaNoWriMo and GO!

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There’s not a lot that can distract me from America’s impending doom if Donald Trump takes the “win” in less than a week from now.

I’ve already started researching Visa laws in Canada and England–there are burgeoning entertainment hubs in both of those countries. I wonder if I can qualify as a refugee…I’m multi-racial (all minority races) and I’m a woman so it’s not looking good for me in a Trump version of America.

I’m renewing my passport tomorrow.

Enough about my possible immigration–the one thing that’s keeping November from being a gigantic mess of a month for me is an incredible program for writers (and aspiring writers) called NaNoWriMo.

That crazy word is actually a shortened version of the real name: National Novel Writing Month.

As such–the “Wri” part of that word should be pronounced “Rye” as in the bread not “Ree” as an idiot might consider pronouncing it. You may think that sounds overly cruel/judgmental, but if you YouTube and google Vlogs about the event and then someone pops up with the “Ree” out of nowhere, it’s like freaking nails on a chalkboard.

THIS GIRL KNOWS WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT and she is MAD.

The overall goal of the entire shindig is to write 50,000 words of a novel from November 1st until November 30th at midnight.

If you reach that goal, you “win”–if you don’t reach that goal, you still have thousands more words of a novel written than you did in October/than you would if you had spent the month sitting in front of a television screen procrastinating.

The cool thing about the website is that you can log on and create a profile, then create a profile for your novel and use their daily word counter to track your progress. They even stick it into this really neat graph to let you know what you need to do to meet the minimum daily goal (1,667 words a day). It even averages out your words per day, shows you how much more you have left to type before you reach 50k, and when you’ll finish at your current rate of writing speed (among many other very interesting facts).

I learned long ago that, in order for me to accomplish any sort of writing, I have to have some sort of deadline hanging over my head. As a screenwriter, it’s usually the submission period for a competition. For NaNoWriMo, it’s getting it all complete within those 30 days–and if you don’t stay on track at at least a rate of 1,667 for day, BOY can you fall behind really quickly.

Last year, I made it to day 10 and 16,752 words. Somehow, I got distracted or ran out of steam of SOMETHING–but I stopped because that’s where my bar graph caps off for the remaining 20 days. The fact that I can’t even remember why I stopped says a lot about what’s happened in the last 365 days since NaNo 2015. At this point, I can barely remember what I did yesterday, so I couldn’t tell you what slammed on the creative breaks a year ago.

But this year, I AM DETERMINED.

I put the call out en masse to my Facebook friends to see who would be up to the challenge and many replied with the courage of a thousand word warriors.

One of my grade school pals hooked me up with a small group of women that are all set to conquer NaNo 2016 and we’ve got a nice little FB group chat going on to encourage one another. And that really is the key to keep going–

ACCOUNTABILITY.

When you have someone else cheering you on and harassing you (in a positive way) to put your butt into the seat and start typing (or hand writing, if you prefer–or dictating, even!) you’re much more likely to be successful. And this is because, inevitably, halfway through the month your writing motivation will begin to peter out. You’ll wonder why you’re “wasting your time” and you’ll ask yourself in the harshest manner possible: “Why did I even THINK that I could write a novel?! Who do I think I am?!”

The answer, of course, is that you’re a writer. If you’re engaging in the act of writing, you are, indeed, a writer. Perhaps not a very good one (I’m just being honest!) but on the off chance that you are, that you’re even possibly spectacular, you’ll never know unless you give it a whirl.

So get your butt in that seat and try!

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Hollywood Throws Me a Bone

In high school, I applied to a state run (I think?) residential summer language arts immersion program. I applied to study French, a language I hadn’t studied a day in my life but for which I had always harbored a secret love.

This was pre-email notifications, so when I got a letter in the mail, I can remember thinking, “This is my Harry Potter Hogwarts letter!”

I got rejected.

That’s not the worst part, though. The worst part came a week before the program was supposed to start. I got another letter in the mail. Curious, I thought, since they had rejected me. It was with great excitement that I read it and saw directions to the campus!

I called the number provided on THAT letter to ask for more information and was promptly told that I had been mailed the map by accident, that I was still rejected, and I didn’t even receive an apology.

BITCHES.

Y’all keep that little trip down memory lane in your locker because I need to divert down a more contemporary path for a moment.

In the last few months, I experienced (I can now see from the other side) what was one of the deepest depressions I’ve had the displeasure of experiencing in the last decade. I blogged about it here and here if you need to get up to speed.

Some of the things that lifted me from the muck were:

  1. Being flown out to Texas to visit my goddaughter and her parents…errr…I mean my best friend, her loving husband, and their kid,
  2. Getting accepted into the next round of the Sundance Screenwriter’s Lab,
  3. Getting asked to audition for a Network’s comedy showcase.

And all of that literally happened on August 1st, 2nd, and 3rd.

INSANE the way the universe works sometimes.

I had a great time with my peeps, wrote the final draft of my screenplay submission, and developed several characters to present at my audition.

At the audition, I killed it. I don’t say that lightly as I’m usually self-deprecating when it comes to original comedic material. But all of The Network people listening to my audition were laughing continuously and even stated how impressed they were at the end. Usually, if you don’t do so well, you get a kind (yet pitying) “thanks” and you leave.

This time, though, they asked if I was also a writer and mentioned they had a writing program, as well.

“Yes. Yes, I am a writer and an actor. Both. I do both,” I managed to stutter out while gathering my bag.

“Great, we’ll be in touch!”

Whoa. Never before had I ever heard an audition committee make a rock solid commitment to follow up with me.

So I settled in with fingers crossed and the expectation to NEVER HEAR FROM THEM AGAIN. In The Industry, after you audition, you ONLY hear back if you’ve made it through to the next round or booked the job. Otherwise, you can assume from the silence that you didn’t get whatever it is that you just spent a massive amount of time preparing for.

It’s sad, it’s anxiety inducing, it’s depressing.

IT’S HOLLYWOOD.

did hear back, though, and submitted the requisite sketches I needed to, along with a bio and resume, and settled in with the expectation to NEVER HEAR FROM THEM AGAIN.

I wasn’t disappointed.

Weeks went by and not a peep.

I woke up this morning sweating from my lack of AC in a Los Angeles heatwave, in pain because mother nature sent “Aunt Flow” in for a visit at 2 a.m. (I must’ve displeased her last month because she is TEARING SH*T UP), and more than vaguely imagining my life on an isolated island somewhere far away from Tinseltown. Though nothing like the last few months, I still have waves of ennui that knock me into daydreaming about deserting my astronomical career goals and going to find some poor schlub that wants to take a go at domestic bliss.

And then I got an email from The Network with instructions for writing that I didn’t understand because I’d never heard back from them about moving forward.

Do you remember the story from earlier?

DO YOU?!

Deja vu, my friends, in the worst possible way.

But I guess I’m a bit of a masochist, because I wanted that confirmation of rejection. I needed it, needed to get some closure for another failed audition and submission, like any good LA actor and writer.

I typed a short email letting them know that they had accidentally emailed me the instructions.

Within half an hour, I got a return email.

I was expecting: “Oops, sorry about that. Thanks for applying, try again next year.”

Instead, I got: “You are most certainly in. I think we accidentally left you off of the original email! Are you still interested?”

My eyes went blurry and, I swear to you, I thought I was going temporarily blind and/or having a panic attack.

Nope, just tears. Tears of unadulterated joy, relief, satisfaction, vindication, whatever positive emotion you can think of, those tears were saturated in them.

My first move was to get in the shower because sending emails to people at The Network requires me to be presentable, even though they can’t actually see me.

The next was to go get a piece of cake from The Alcove. Their cake is amazing (though, at $7 a slice, you have to really want it).

But I was so flabbergasted by this awesome turn of events that I couldn’t focus enough to find my pants! If that isn’t comedy seeping out of my veins, I don’t know what is.

4 minutes later, I located a clean pair of shorts (well, they passed the smell test) and jumped into my car.

And I got a slice of a really gorgeous Princess cake.

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In the interest of full disclosure, I also walked home with a slice of Chocolate Godiva cake:

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Because I can’t think of a better day to spend $15 on celebratory cake.

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