Thursday, August 11, 2005
my favorite.
is when the fedex man walks in, sees that no one is at the reception desk, and then walks past two men to get to my tiny study carrel and ask me to sign for packages. because, having boobs and no grey hair, i am obviously the receptionist.
if i were not actively trying to reign in the shrivelling bitterness, i would speak here about the people who came in to the casting director's office yesterday, who are really a lot like me except successful. that part's funny. they're normal actors, maybe a little more attractive, maybe a little more confident, but mostly similar to me, except that they just finished doing five episodes of three different court room dramas. i have no idea what makes them them. for reals. it's very tummy-dropping to listen to them assume that you have an agent and have met sam waterston, because in the circles they work in, everyone has. which makes my circles look a lot like cow pies.
i kind of wish this whole thing were one of those bad family circle cartoons, where little billy runs around everywhere leaving a trail of black dashes, as if his principal objective has been to shit bricks all over town, and though it looks confusing at first, you can always sort out the convoluted way he got from here to there. i would like to follow the shit brick trail of these people and figure out how they did it, because without the map, looking at them and looking in the mirror, it's hard to imagine that there even is a path.
if i were not actively trying to reign in the shrivelling bitterness, i would speak here about the people who came in to the casting director's office yesterday, who are really a lot like me except successful. that part's funny. they're normal actors, maybe a little more attractive, maybe a little more confident, but mostly similar to me, except that they just finished doing five episodes of three different court room dramas. i have no idea what makes them them. for reals. it's very tummy-dropping to listen to them assume that you have an agent and have met sam waterston, because in the circles they work in, everyone has. which makes my circles look a lot like cow pies.
i kind of wish this whole thing were one of those bad family circle cartoons, where little billy runs around everywhere leaving a trail of black dashes, as if his principal objective has been to shit bricks all over town, and though it looks confusing at first, you can always sort out the convoluted way he got from here to there. i would like to follow the shit brick trail of these people and figure out how they did it, because without the map, looking at them and looking in the mirror, it's hard to imagine that there even is a path.
