12:48 pm - Sat 9/07/02
Yet Another Theatrical Dry-Hump

(Well, I don't know exactly what happened, but I've been able to get the old computer going again. It's working, but is crashing and freezing and acting-up enough that I remember now just why I was so excited when John O. offered to give me his old computer. Anyway, Cary is going to come by tomorrow morning to look at the other computer, and see what can be done.)

My Baby With The Bathwater audition was yesterday.

In the morning, I was okay for awhile, then in the middle of chatting with Kevin, I felt the nerves hit (And a big point of concern with me is that "nerves", that used to just mean "butterflies", seem to now mean honestly wondering if I'm going to puke at any given moment. I end up feeling more anxious about not throwing-up than anything else).

I debated how I was going to "order my day"; Originally, I thought I'd go pick up my paycheck on Thursday, but I didn't get around to doing that (Probably because I'd stayed up all night on Wednesday), so then I thought I'd go pick up my paycheck and cash it before going to the audition, then thought "Why rush around?", and decided to wait till after the audition. But then in another turn-around, I realized I didn't have anything to do between the time I got up and the audition, and thought it was better to go to the store and pick up my paycheck after all; I thought I could use the time-filler to distract myself from my rising nausea (I'd also had a debate about whether to bike or drive my car. Ultimately, it came down to now wanting to go into the audition all sweaty, so I drove around in air-conditioned comfort).

I got to the audition early enough to park and get to the Hollywood Fight Club Theater about five minutes before my appointment, without feeling rushed or stressed.

As I waited in the front room--the front and back were divided only by a curtain--I could hear an actress reading a scene from later in the show, and afterwards, some discussion about her work schedule.

Then, about five minutes after my scheduled time, I was ushered into the back.

Three people--a young woman, a middle aged man, and a young guy--were seated at a card table, with a staging area in front of them, and a sofa center stage.

I shook their hands, then remained standing till they asked me to have a seat. So I went and sat on the sofa.

The older guy, David, the director, told me a little about the organization (Organized by two actors eight months ago, with two productions under their belt, and big plans for the future), asked me some questions--where I was from and so forth--then directed my attention to a pile of flyers on the table.

So I grabbed one, went back to the sofa, and started to read.

The first part of the flyer reiterated what I'd just been told, but as I read further, I saw that if I got in the show, they wanted three hundred dollars from me (Since I would receive ten tickets to sell at $10 a piece, it would really "only" be $200).

At that point, I got up, put the flyer back, and started to make my way out, saying "Thanks anyway...".

The director said something like "Not your thing?", and I said, "I quit the last thing I was in when they wanted money from me...".

(From here, since I'm kind of tired, and don't want to hash over the rest of that day again, I'm going to just copy part of what I emailed Jane a little earlier today).

I thought, right after the "audition" yesterday, that I might be able to "laugh it off", but a little later that afternoon, I found myself impulsively calling the theater, which turned out to be a mistake...

I basically said I had really looked forward to the audition, was very disappointed, and thought the subject of money should have come up before I wasted my time showing up (I'd prefaced my remarks by saying I "wasn't going to curse or scream or anything", but I found myself feeling a little snippy at that point. I said, "But I understand why you don't tell people beforehand, because if you did, you'd get a whole lot fewer people showing up...").

His big response? He didn't have time to call each person who sends in a headshot and talk for ten or fifteen minutes (Here's a newsflash for you, guy; If you tell me you want me to pay you $300 for being in your little show, the conversation will not continue on for another ten or fifteeen minutes!).

That's a message I'm very sensitive to, the whole "My time is more important than yours" thing, and I got angry.

I said, "That's fine. I'll just make a point of telling everyone I know how you do business, and try to persuade them not to do business with you".

It's a pretty empty threat--I don't really know anyone--and for every one person I'd get the message out to, there'd be a thousand actors desperate enough to be seen that they'd happily shell out $300 for the privilige.

Anyway, all that call did was enhance my feeling of powerlessness and frustration.

I went to Jack In The Box, then walked to the movies in Los Feliz.

There was a movie I could see--One Hour Photo--but there was a poster for The Good Girl "...now playing at the Vista", which is a nearby theater on Hollywood (The one where my bike got stolen. I guess there must be some business relationship between the Los Feliz and Vista theaters).

I've wanted to see The Good Girl since I first read about it, so I walked to the Vista, but there was no matinee, so I ended up going back to the Los Feliz and seeing One Hour Photo.

This turned out to not be a good movie for me to see. As I said to Lauren later in the evening, "Important Tip: If you're feeling like a depressed, lonely loser, don't go see a movie about a depressed, lonely loser" (I thought Robin Williams was really good, btw, but the movie as a whole is nothing special).

After the movie, I found myself in a pretty deep funk, wondering exactly what it was I had to live for, what keeps me going, what keeps me from completely losing it.

So I thought, rather than go home and slide further into depression, that I'd go see The Good Girl after all (Which was the first time I've ever paid full-price to see a movie here). I was torn, because I'd looked forward to your call, but I thought if you called me in my deepening black mood, it wouldn't be much fun for either of us.

The Good Girl was...well, really good. I've gained a great deal of respect for Jennifer Aniston over the course of Friends, and that respect went up another notch after this movie.

Interestingly, the two movies, different as they were, had something in common; In both movies, the lead character is in the middle of an unhappy life, "acts out" as a result, and trouble ensues (Though a critical difference between the two movies is that Robin Williams's character is unbalanced, while Jennifer Aniston's character is merely depressed, and as a result, the ending to both stories is quite different).

So I spent a load of money yesterday, on movies and junk food, and I'd say it worked to distract me, at least for awhile.

But the trouble with spending your time distracting yourself from your feelings is that, eventually, you still have to face them.

I'm feeling pretty discouraged right now. Very, very tired. And I just want something, anything, to feel truly, deeply, satisfying.

I don't really see any immediate answers here. I guess I just try to keep plugging, and try not to let the "dark thoughts" overwhelm me.

But right now, I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed.

So here we are. As I told Jane in a conversation after the audition, I'm getting pretty tired of acting anti-climaxes.

And there's really a lot more for me to say on a host of other subjects, but another time perhaps...

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