so I did the Amanda Knox shoot last night and it wasn't so bad! no - i didn't wear a bikini, but i did sport some red underwear with the word 'killer' emblazoned on the backside. it was a great excuse to scream 'you biyatch, i love you!!!!!' and 'you're a whore! i'm a whore!' and slurp beer and pretend to smoke a cigarette (scandalous!) and lick an attractive man's face (thanks for the stubble exfoliant Matt. your biceps ain't too shabby either!! hummmmmmina hummmmmina ladies!).
and you know what, hey! i'm getting pretty good at this shooting on camera thing! and i'm getting pretty good at giving 100% as the shocked (in a good way) intern phrased it. and i'm ALREADY pretty good at letting loose and not having any hang-ups like spewing certain dairy items out of my mouth - because that can be DISGUSTING and FUNNY! i can't wait to see the pictures (which i will post here, no doubt, in all their gross glory). it was a good time. though, it occurred to me while screaming such soubriquets as the aforementioned, i might be insane. seriously, who does this shit?
ME! YOU BIYATCH!!!
Friday, June 27, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
The Blog According to Martha
I was on BWE blog and came accross this gem of blog instruction by no less than the queen of perfection herself Martha Stewart:
– A true blog is written when you’re inspired, and it doesn’t have to happen every day.
Eh... shut it Madge.
I got nothin'. That's it.
Later today i'm supposed to go over to BarelyPolitical.com and shoot a spoof on the obscure case in Italy of that American chic Amanda Marie Knox whose been held on suspicion of killing her roommate since November. No proof though, so - not quite sure how they can still be holding her. Apparently she said she thought the only reason they were making a story about her was because she's not ugly. i'm not sure what i'm getting myself into and sometimes i wish that i were more picky about what projects i agree to be a part of. i got an email asking if i could bring a bikini last night. um...no. no i cannot. at least i know where to draw the line on pimping myself out... barely. o sweet baby jesus. hope it's at least a little funny. though i don't know. i haven't even seen a script and i'm supposed to go down at 3pm today. HA! whatever... at least i'll get out of this godforsaken death box for a few hours.
– A true blog is written when you’re inspired, and it doesn’t have to happen every day.
Eh... shut it Madge.
I got nothin'. That's it.
Later today i'm supposed to go over to BarelyPolitical.com and shoot a spoof on the obscure case in Italy of that American chic Amanda Marie Knox whose been held on suspicion of killing her roommate since November. No proof though, so - not quite sure how they can still be holding her. Apparently she said she thought the only reason they were making a story about her was because she's not ugly. i'm not sure what i'm getting myself into and sometimes i wish that i were more picky about what projects i agree to be a part of. i got an email asking if i could bring a bikini last night. um...no. no i cannot. at least i know where to draw the line on pimping myself out... barely. o sweet baby jesus. hope it's at least a little funny. though i don't know. i haven't even seen a script and i'm supposed to go down at 3pm today. HA! whatever... at least i'll get out of this godforsaken death box for a few hours.
Monday, June 16, 2008
a note on tolerance - and fakin' it till you makin' it
i have this thing where i need to not disappoint people - and let me tell you... it is such a BUMMER. up to this point in my daily dealings, i haven't really noticed what a ten-ton weight this is around my neck. but as i creep closer and closer to achieving my goals (in spite of having the unsuppressible thought to shout 'I WAS JUST THINKING OF A STINKING PILE OF SHIT! THOUGHT I'D SHARE!' at a national callback) and i have less time, or tolerance for things i'm not - shall we say that passionate about, i am more aware than ever of it. people can be resentful if you don't treat them and their dealings as though it's top priority to you. at least, i find this to be so. especially at my corporate world temp job where they have me sitting in a box writing form letters and filing. it might be different if i didn't get a slight feeling they might be androids as they ask me about my weekend - or 'how's that acting career going? no broadway yet?' at least i got flowers jammed in a vase filled with styrofoam shavings for assistants day. i'm serious.
but here's the awesome thing. i get to go home to a great cat and a wonderful boyfriend. i have some really awesome friends who i love so much i could squish their brains out (there's that part of me that belongs in a sanitarium! aw you guys love it, right?!) and i'm gonna get the eff outta here one day - i'm gonna get up, get out and DO IT!
and if i can't quite believe the above, i'll remember as my good friend Chris Cuttler is fond of saying: 'fake it, 'til ya make it.'
but here's the awesome thing. i get to go home to a great cat and a wonderful boyfriend. i have some really awesome friends who i love so much i could squish their brains out (there's that part of me that belongs in a sanitarium! aw you guys love it, right?!) and i'm gonna get the eff outta here one day - i'm gonna get up, get out and DO IT!
and if i can't quite believe the above, i'll remember as my good friend Chris Cuttler is fond of saying: 'fake it, 'til ya make it.'
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Open the Box
It's way past time for a new blog post. I have been remiss. It takes practice to post blogs. Sometimes - I get so caught up in what I should write about that I just don't write. And that's just silly.
I practiced the violin for 11 years then quit when I was fourteen because I was too busy pretending to smoke on my back porch and crying over beautiful boys. I still have my violin though and I pull it out every now and then for a tune. However, the last few months I've had this crippling fear of opening the case and finding my instrument smithered to dust. It's amazing what fear does to you. Well - fear and years and years of perfectionism drilled into my head by a 'no bullshit' violin teacher and my mother.
Last night, I creaked the cover open to find...a perfectly intact friend glossed burnished amber with fat curves and a long slender neck. I put her under my chin and she was almost perfectly in tune. It was not easy. I haven't played for a long time. But it was really nice to feel those strings hum again and know I'm the one making them sing. I remembered that I can be connected again to my music anytime at all. Just have to open that box.
I practiced the violin for 11 years then quit when I was fourteen because I was too busy pretending to smoke on my back porch and crying over beautiful boys. I still have my violin though and I pull it out every now and then for a tune. However, the last few months I've had this crippling fear of opening the case and finding my instrument smithered to dust. It's amazing what fear does to you. Well - fear and years and years of perfectionism drilled into my head by a 'no bullshit' violin teacher and my mother.
Last night, I creaked the cover open to find...a perfectly intact friend glossed burnished amber with fat curves and a long slender neck. I put her under my chin and she was almost perfectly in tune. It was not easy. I haven't played for a long time. But it was really nice to feel those strings hum again and know I'm the one making them sing. I remembered that I can be connected again to my music anytime at all. Just have to open that box.
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