The Strawhat Auditions

Failure number one.

The strawhat auditions are somewhat difficult to get accepted into. I know they personally didnt allow one of my best actor friends to attend. I was so excited to get accepted in November. A mass audition for a huge group of regional theatres ready to cast their summer stock! Something very prestigious? Something where a good job could be had for the taking.

Nope.

This was a mass audition so theatres could cast decent actors in their internship programs, make them pay almost $1,000 and have them move chairs all summer.

There were college musical theatre students EVERYWHERE. Warming up, hugging each other. Singing their Rents and their Wickeds and calling their moms talking about callbacks in the hallway.

They are in shape. I am not. This is something I very painfully came to terms with yesterday.

Not to mention all the good theatres left before monday.

Not that I felt great about my audition.

Shit.

Also I pretty much stopped running. I could blame the snow or too much work, but Ive stopped. I can feel it.

Crap.

The Strawhat Callback Wall 1pm
My name is on one of these.

One.

Check in.

The Empire State Building from the Empire State Building.
Would love to expand on this day. It was lovely. Too bad.

Still not sure where this blog is going; whether I should be more anonymous or what. I mean, I still live with my ex-boyfriend, have to keep a lot of secrets because of that. I would love to go into detail about my new escapades, and by escapades I use the root ESCAPE literally. Whatever that means.

Running has been difficult as I have had to put in almost sixty hour at my job to make ends meet, and guess what! They still aren't meeting. They should make a dating service for single ends to meet up at coffee shops. EndsMeet.com. Sometimes I hate myself.

I have a nice big juicy audition on Monday. Ninety seconds. Two contrasting monologues. I have decided to do very well. This is what I am working on today.

The alcoholic subway number asker guy didn't call me. Bastard. Maaaybe it's for the best. He was too young for me anyway. Ha.

Big storm on it's way in tonight. One of the cool things about living in New York City is that the weather is a real topic of conversation. It's this enormous thing that drastically affects all of our lives, and in discussing it, we feel a sense of community. The word on the street and in the news today is, "Yeah we missed it last time (meaning the little storm with the big hype that fell all over D.C. and barely flirted with New York City) but we wont be so lucky tonight." It makes me want to wax poetic on how storms are like relationships, you miss one...etc. Maybe storms and cities and ends should all find a dating service...

Can you tell that I am well aware Valentine's Day is Sunday?

Dear Subway Diary,

I met a man on the subway.

Ok, well not actually ON the subway but outside of the 53rd and Lex stop. I was going home from acting class at the Neighborhood Playhouse (yay me) and a young man in a thick Brooklyn accent asks me how to get to the F. I begin to stammer that you can't get to the F at this station, and you'll have to take the E or V but they aren't running and if I was coherent, which I rarely am, I would have gone on to tell him to take the 6 downtown to Bleecker and there you are. But I was also thinking in my neurotic (which only really means I'm muddled up, thinking from all angles) brain, that I may give this guy directions and then we'll end up on the same train, and it will be awkward, plus he was kind of cute so, "Why dont you just come with me?" blurts out of my mouth.

So great. So much for my book, or listening to music or whatever I was going to do.

But then he turned out to be so interesting. He was really intelligent, honest and forthcoming about himself. We had an enjoyable conversation the entire ride, and that includes the transfer. A couple of times, I stepped outside myself and looked in from the outside and realized how far my life has taken me in six months.

Emma is on a train talking to a Brooklyn boy about life.

Yes. He asked for my number. Right after 15th St Station in Brooklyn. He knew mine was the next stop. He was getting off at Avenue I where I once woke up after having missed Fort Hamilton. One brilliant topic of conversation. I left out that it was three am and I drunk. He also went to rehab in Los Angeles. He has emotional ties there. I get that.

So I gave him my number.

Doubt it will go anywhere. The whole "rehab" thing and I'm really into wine. Also he's Jewish, so he told me, Brooklyn Jewish, and I'm definitely not. Kinda the end right there. But oh well. This is New York and who cares?

I had my first subway romance.

I fucking love this town.

Where do we go from here?

I guess I am new to blogging.

I recently joined this cool website and am reading all these amazing blogs. I mean, these people really know how to WRITE. These writers have all these beautiful nuances, and funny quips in their writing that I simply don't know how to do.

Why am I always discouraged by the successes of others? lame.

Beyond that, they seem to have a lot of anonymity going on. That would probably help me. Or I could start over and talk about all of the real feelings and nutcase escapades I am embarking on.

Facebook is the main problem. Or maybe Ill start over.

But I dont WANT to start over. This is a STORY.

But I want to talk about my breakup and other wanton adventures.

But that wont be good for anyone involved but me.

oh yeah.

Maybe time to start over?

Or maybe start a writing journal?

Maybe make new friends who you can TALK to?

Or maybe who the hell cares?

Maybe I'll just un-post my blog from facebook.

P.S. Hit 60 miles today. Booyah.

My own empty subway car. I swung around all the poles and felt very free.

Everything I know about procrastination I learned from Hamlet

Somehow this has become a blog about running. Running has become the only solid thing in my life that I can control. It is an achievement in a world where achievements are few. Its one thing I can do everyday and consider myself accomplished.

Meanwhile, I am not acting. I am not acting. I am not acting.

HOWEVER. I do have a meeting with a teacher from the Neighborhood Playhouse. This is the first step.

Steps:

(things to do by January 20th)

1. Have my hair fixed. It's red-brown now and I remind myself of a golden retriever.
2. Have an APPOINTMENT for new head shots
3. Give Michael all of my reel information
4. Interviewed/audited for two schools or BE in class
5. Memorize one contemporary dramatic monologue (I think I picked one)

Focus. Focus. Focus.

In running news I did a different route today around Greenwood Cemetery. Not a great run. The sidewalks are full of industrial debris and too many hills. I also think there is a big jail there. Or else its a high school. I did it though.

Almost to 9 min miles.

40 miles since Jan 1. Ok I'll stop.

I get to be proud about one thing in my life.

Greenwood Cemetery.

Don't be fooled into thinking you can run all over it and enjoy the company of the dead.
No joggers.
Run around in the trash outside the iron gate.

Full Force and 30 miles

The time of "I am adjusting" is over. There is no time for "Im going through a breakup" so we are getting going now. Every time I look at Backstage I feel like I am a week behind the world. If I had just been ready last week. Let it be that I never feel that way again.

So I am moving forward. Ahead. Through it. Accelerate through the chaos. Though I am beginning to think that the last one is misinformed. I need headshots. I need monologues. I need my hair fixed. I need class. I need a reel. I need to get this all done now.

The time is now.

I feel especially tough when I come back from a run looking like this:



30 miles in 7 days. We are so on track this time.

Second Attempt

Ok so I failed the 100 miles in 30 days goal in December. Failed hardcore. I did get a nice little email from MapMyRun saying I am a loser but not to throw in the towel just yet.

So here I am going for a second try. Maybe second tries are my specialty. That's kinda what New York is all about for me. This time, however, I am stepping it up a notch. FIVE miles a day. It isn't that much different actually, and the course I run works much better for five miles.

I am at 15% since the first. 25 miles a week at least and I will kill this goal once and for all.

And don't think i am using this because I am afraid to find my way into acting here, because that's probably exactly what I'm doing. This is easy. Clear beginning, clear end, clear goal. I am working on transferring that. Just give me a little time.

Thirty Three Miles in ten days.

I have started a shameless love affair with Prospect Park.

I haven't just started running again.

I have thrown myself into it full force.

I am proud of this one thing in my life right now, so you people who run ten to twenty miles a day and are actually hard core can leave me alone about my little successes.

Prospect Park and Map My Run are my new trainers and I am on "track" (get it?) to running one hundred miles this month. 33% done.

I needed to do something to fight family meal and comfort eating, and it helps me clear my gnarled brain.

At least I think it does.

Then again, I am forgetting things lately, and just when I think I have certain thoughts under control they attack me. I lost my $90 metro card, Michael's camera charger, and camera (separately), and forgot to wear an undershirt running this morning.

There is another possibility: I am nuts.

Anyway, I am running!

And the IMapMyRun app lets me take pictures while I run! Aren't I productive?

Thirteen Days

Today I bit the bullet and found my silly, floundering courage. I told my acting manager I was leaving. Of course, they were very supportive. They admitted they, themselves, are floundering in this hellish, hollow waste of a city, and I am "too talented to sit around waiting." Oh yeah, forgot I am going to New York to act. That's right. Theatre. I have let it sit on the back burner too long. Going to class is easy. Getting a job is an entirely different thing.

Anyway I digress...

Why is it I always expect a fight? Probably because I expect everyone to be my parents and make me feel guilty.

Being a person means making your own decisions and living with them. Maybe I don't make enough decisions. Time to grow up.

Here, finally, are some pictures of my new apartment. I know I am doing this now. I am not comfortable with it. Isn't that funny? In a few, short days I will be on the road, probably shedding wistful tears, and wondering still if I am capable of making decisions like these without ruining my entire life.

You Know What I am Excited for?

In two weeks, the apartments on Craigslist could really be OURS.

Like this one...

this one...

this one...

or this one...

Feeling very healthy and excited today. Ever since my boss told me that he would do the same thing if he were my age, I have been much lighter. Does that mean I have "Daddy issues?"

Thirty-one days...

Self Pity and other Useless Emotions

Ok so work kinda sucked. My boss thought it would be funny to tell me to come in at 4:45 (oh man its really NOT that good of a story) but I walked the ten minutes it takes to get there (if I walk fast) and he said, "Oh Emma! Didnt you hear me say I was kidding? You were here late on the lunch shift! You really thought I would let you only have a forty five minute break?" Needless to say I was fuming. (Actually I was so fuming my eyes were watering, like I was CRYING people!)

I decided I was being over emotional and, since I havent been sleeping well, I needed to take a nap.

Work sucked and I come home and find THIS PICTURE:

From THIS BLOG

Oh. My. God.

Perfect.

Four and a Half months

Yeah so its been awhile. Its hard to stay with a blog that doesn't post every day. After awhile you feel betrayed. I get it. Thats how I feel sometimes.

What can I say? These days I am wondering what I am supposed to do in this savage limbo. Its four months until I make the biggest (mistake? triumph? or just...) move of my life, and what the hell am I supposed to be doing right now? I am certainly not trying to audition in Los Angeles. I should be. I havent gone back to class. Should be too (except for a tiny money and time situation that I have yet to figure out.)

I am still trying to lose weight and running a lot more. So thats good. I havent had any success but the fight is still on.

I am procrastinating. I am scared.

Ok, now that you have admitted it, what should you be doing?

Well if I am not going to class i need to work at home. I need to find at least six monologues to go to New York with. Three classical (all very different) and three contemporary. Ok.

I need to make money. (am doing this as much as possible. seriously. am replacing anxiety and worry with work. good thing i think, for now)

Lose weight (we already talked about this)

RENT THE TRUCK!!! This will be the FIRST STEP! The first COMMITMENT! We need to do this asap.

GET OUT OF DEBT. Ok so this goes with the money thing, but I really DO need to get out of debt. What would happen if I put all my credit into my debt? I am scared I would overdraw. I have to do the math. I don't like math.

To anyone who reads this blog: I promise it will get more interesting as the summer wears on. I will freak out more and plans will be made. I am especially looking forward to documenting our road trip ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE COUNTRY!! But I am waiting in purgatory for now, atoning my sins so I can go to New York with a clean slate.

Craigslist

So it’s officially painful to do my Craigslist fantasizing. I found the greatest apartment today (as I almost always do) but of course it’s ready NOW. I won’t need an apartment until October probably. I bought my (future and present) roommate, Michael, a Not for Tourists book of Brooklyn for his birthday. It has a great map of the communities in Brooklyn. (There is probably a better name than communities.)

So I have a new list:

Greenport
Williamsburg
Brooklyn Heights (if we can get a nice place)/ DUMBO / Downtown Brooklyn (...well see)
Fort Greene/Clinton Hill
Park Slope/Prospect Heights
Windsor Terrace
Prospect-Lefferts Gardens/ Crown Heights
Sunset Park/Greenwood Heights

I chose these places because they are close to Manhattan, and are pretty good areas. I really want to live near Prospect Park. I think I may be in love with Prospect Park.

Actually I think I’m going to put a down payment on this new condo:



When I’m really fantasizing, I look at Halstead Properties. If only....

Serendipity

I am working on a budget for my trip to New York. I figured out (thanks to the great Google Maps) that if my (future and current) roommate, Michael and I want to take the south route it's going to be about 3,300 miles. According to Google, that’s two days. Were thinking ten! Insane. It is going to be the single most terrifying adventure of my life. I can’t wait.

Meanwhile, I must say, blogging is new to me, and reading the blogs of all kinds of amazing people has become my private (guilty?) passion. And, confession of the day, I am scared to follow all these blogs because what if they don’t like me? Do they want me to follow them? Maybe I’m too much of a heathen to be anywhere near the beautiful pictures of their children and amazing crafts they make.

I can't help it today, though. One of my favorite bloggers, Marta from Marta Writes published a serendipitous post today. She shares my passion for New York, and I just know I am going to be referring to her post a hundred times when I get to the big apple. (It’s so nice to talk like that, "When I get there.") So anyway. Her blog is awesome. It put a sparkle in my morning that I just had to share...


P.S. Current Apartment Love

Six Months

I am dreaming on Craigslist today as I have done for years. Only now are my fantasies possible, and even necessary. I have admired apartment rentals on Halstead and Craigslist for years. Now I am actually looking for a real apartment. Of course, my rational self knows that looking for an apartment in March when you’re moving in September is a little ridiculous, but so what? Today the goal is deciding EXACTLY what neighborhoods in Brooklyn I am willing to live in. I don’t really know the area that well. I know that I want to be near the city and in a safe neighborhood. Near a train too.

The list so far:

Park Slope
Windsor Terrace
Prospect Park South
Prospect Heights
DUMBO
Fulton Ferry?
Vinegar Hill?
Bath Beach?

Current apartment love

I would LOVE to live in Park Slope because two sets of friends live there. I love Prospect Park. One set of friends has a three bedroom apartment on the second floor of their building facing the park! My buddy had his bed in such a way that when he wakes up Prospect Park is the first thing he sees. The snow falling outside his window was a sight to behold. And to wake up to that EVERY DAY?? And Prospect Park in the SPRING?? Oh man. This is what happens to me when my fantasies have their way. Anyway...jealous. I can only hope to find something so amazing.

Dream

I had a dream last night. I didn’t think much of it at first but it hasn’t left me all day. It was very vivid and emotional. I am thinking it has very significant meaning.

A very old man is dying. We are at a huge facility and everyone knew this big man is dying. He is particularly close to me. I go to him and he doesn't really say much or do much but I know he loves me and we have a knowing bond between us. He reminds me of Hugh Hefner the way he is sweet with Kendra when she leaves the house, and also Ron Thronston who died when I was in college, all the awards I won in college were "Ron Thronston" awards, and also the vice principal of my junior high school. He wanted me be the one to carry him to his chair. A huge assembly was being held. As we were walking I was crying, but I knew I needed to say something to him. I said, "I just want you to know how thankful I am for all you have done for me." It was all I could get out. I helped him to the area, and then lifted him in both of my arms, and laid him softly in his seat. He was extremely frail and light. His seat was big and on a high platform overlooking the assembly. He nodded for me to leave him.

I did and someone took me to another place in the building. We climbed up into the vent. I think we were trying to see higher or something. We climbed up into the ceiling and then the ladder we had flew out and I almost fell but my companion helped me up. The place was so small we were so cramped I wasn’t sure how we would last up there. We needed to get down but we were extremely high in the air. I was terrified. I thought I would die. Then my companion found a way deeper into the ceiling. There was a hallway with a poster of a play that Jeremy Pivin and a couple other actors were in. Then we were in the play. Not performing a play but living it as if it were real. The room was like a crafted set. There was a walking space, and the beds and other playing areas were raised slightly. Then I woke up.

So I’m thinking I may not post this because who wants to know the innermost workings of my subconscious brain? But what the hell? This blog is to get me to New York, so maybe one of my new friends will provide some insight.

I think the old man is like my life here in Los Angeles. I went to college in Orange County and owe all of my training in acting to this town. I have spent the entirety of my adult life here. I had my heart broken, fell in love, fell in love again and one more time. I have had more success in college than I ever dreamed of. I was on television! But my life here is expiring. Maybe the arena and the big assembly is the entirety of my life and now the man sits in his chair and watches the rest, his part is over. So I climb higher into the arena, to New York?! A play?! That part is less clear to me. I just know that the terrified feeling of climbing too high and the ladder falling out underneath you is familiar when I think of moving to New York.

So anyway. Thank you for letting me be self indulgent.

New York "Thing"

Me...less defeated.

This New York thing might be my last chance.

I am a non-working actor in Los Angeles. I am disgruntled to say the least. It isn’t happening. I love acting. I love theatre. I think it is important, but somehow this business has not opened up to me in almost three years and I am tired. I do not want to schmooze agents and managers. I feel fake, which I cannot STAND.

I watch all these bridal showers and baby showers on the weekend. People get married. I want that so badly. My twenty-six-year-old heart and body wants CHILDREN and to make a HOME. And I am sitting in it thinking, "And what? You’re going to give all this up?" This WHAT??? This "professional waitress"ing like the horrible woman at trivia was so keen to tell me I am. I am not acting. I don’t even want to go to class. I don’t want to audition. I don’t want to do Los Angeles anymore.

Ha. Also my old acting teacher emailed me to remind me that I promised I would do a scene. I’m a big fat liar and a cheat and I’m a quitter and this sucks.

I feel like Alexander who had The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day. He was sure everything would be fine if he moved to Australia. Or am I Kate Winslet and Leo in Revolutionary Road? If I don't go to France... (trying not to spoil the movie)...bad things will happen? If you’ve seen it you REALLY know what I mean.

I have to go to New York. I have to give this thing one last shot. I can go for it in theatre there. I know that game much better.

But what if I fail? Worse...what if or how or when do I give up?

What if I could be really happy doing something totally normal and safe?

Step one: Accomplished.

It was harder than I thought it would be because I underestimated Sam's kindness and strength of character. I forgot that he is a wonderful coach and a really caring person. He loves actors and understands us. He sees our blocks and fears. He really thinks I am a good artist. He keeps telling me that I "dont know how good I am." Oh man. I remained strong. He definitely didnt give me as much crap as I thought he would. He even supported the move to New York. I am becoming less of a wimp, I swear!

As far as acting technique, I know I need a little more work. I know I want to go back to Playhouse and chisel the corners some more. Torture myself. "You cannot have mercy on yourself as an actor," my teacher there once told me.

So I am going back to my difficult Meisner study so I can become a better vessel of truth.

Oh my God. I am really moving to New York.

By the way, sometimes I get a little dramatic.

Seven Months

So I spent my break between shifts fantasizing about the apartments I found on Craigslist. I was sitting right next to the heater before it turned off by itself for no reason. It’s cold here. It’s not raining or cloudy or anything. It’s probably not even that cold but Los Angeles has thinned my blood and drained my soul. So back to fantasizing. There are so many beautiful pictures of beautiful, affordable apartments in Brooklyn. I even found a neat website on how to move to New York. So that was it. That is where we are right now. Just fantasizing.

Supposedly I am moving to New York City in seven months.

To be honest with you, I'm not sure that I have the courage.