#32- WHAT'S IT GOTTA TAKE?

When you work hard at something you don't love, things get messy. There's no avoiding it. For example, you have periods of time where you just don't work out and you eat horribly. You're clothing gets tight but you can't afford new clothes so you just wear clothes that are too tight. So what? You hate this job anyway. Who cares if your stomach hangs over your belt buckle? Everyone, apparently.

On the subway this morning a man got on with a rolly-suitcas-ey file box contraption. It was wide open with manila folders stuffed inside. On top was a Canada Dry seltzer bottle he'd filled with orange juice, to save money I assumed. Next to him, a few seats down, two women took notice. They looked at the rolly-suitcas-ey file box contraption. Then they looked at each other and snickered. Then they looked back at him and judged him all up and down. I looked back at the man. He'd pulled out a very small HP computer and opened it. He heaved an exhausted sign and began to type, completely unaware of the audience he'd attracted. Next to me, another woman took a picture of the rolly-suitcas-ey file box contraption on her iPhone. I looked at her face and she was snickering too. The doors opened and she left with an amused grin across her face. No doubt Facebook would feature this man's rolly-suitcas-ey file box contraption as soon as she hit pavement.

I thought, what does it take to be accepted in this world of ours? How hard do I have to work when an overworked man in a crumpled business suit can't even get a break. It's not like he's some slacker. He's just overwhelmed and probably can't afford a new rolly-suitcas-ey file box contraption that's the correct size. He's at least working for a living! What's so damn funny?

There is nothing like busting ass just trying to get by on a job you hate. It's a crisis in our country, I believe. All of us slaving away on other people's dreams and visions, not our own. When I tried selling real estate for a living, I remember having days where I was walking down the hot summer streets of New York praying to find money on the street. It's not that I wasn't working, I was. I was just working at the wrong thing. I found ways to survive on five bucks a day once. That's one of the amazing things about living in New York City. You can get away with being broke sometimes and not starve.

Artists always have to bust ass. They have other jobs to support themselves while they pursue careers in the arts. The good thing about that is when you're an artist at least you have something to look forward to. Something to break up the monotony. At least you can say you're working five jobs temporarily until something happens with your art. You get through your days as a barista, bar tending, filing clerk, receptionist, and a party clown with your head held high because you no no matter what anyone thinks of you it doesn't matter. Because you have something else.

I wondered about the man and his rolly-suitcas-ey file box contraption. Did he have something else? An artist's life that the judgemental women on the train didn't know about? Could I tell? I looked closer at his face. He was concentrating hard. I imagined he was writing a novel in his little Hewlett Packard. That in between his appointments he would jump on the train and work on his dream. It make me feel better thinking about this. But then I looked at his face again. There was no joy. If it was art, there would be joy. Zero. Zilch. It was probably math. I hate math.

#28- ART. IT MAKES YOU DO THINGS

It's been awhile since I've written to you all. The past few months included me moving, adjusting, bringing my dog up, him adjusting, and launching and building my new business. My absence in "the scene" is due to my after show commute almost tripling as well as my dog requiring 6am walks. No excuse for the wicked, I know. But sometimes adjustment is necessary.

So I am back living in Washington Heights after two years of subletting my place so I could complete a feature film I produced AND finally finish healing from a pretty suckey break up. It was an eight years plus relationship. Take a note from my life, no matter how relieved you are, never underestimate the tole a broken relationship can take on your spirit. You must heal. When you seek healing do it with people who genuinely love you. It's sort of like weening of narcotics, not that I'd know. But I imagine weening of a long term relationship is worse that quitting caffeine. Maybe cigarettes. Regardless, do it around people who love you because they will be the only one who will tolerate your mood swings.

So I've been working at my business, teaching, directing, and yes- waiting tables. My weekend waiting gig hasn't been so bad and the food service always makes me feel like I'm really in the trenches- busting butt. If you are reading this and you do not live in NYC, just know that having this many pursuits and jobs is common among many of my peers. This city is expensive and success is all about relationships with other people. I've made incredible connections at VERY fancy parties through my new business as well as when I'm serving eggs. It can happen anywhere in NYC.

Anyway, lucky for me Penny and the gang have held on tight to Samantha Jones. Regular calls and pleading me to come perform help me remember why I am here. To perform and to write. In fact my new business is taking so much of my focus because I know it will succeed and ultimately bring me more time for my art.

At the moment I am on Cape Cod. The twists of my life continued when me retina detached for the second time on the second day I was here. Needless to state, I was panicked. For many reasons. One was I was six hours away from my doctor of choice. Two, my health insurance wasn't completely up and running yet! This is where my family stepped in once again. By day three my insurance was up, my surgery complete, and we were one day away from closing on a vacation home we were purchasing together. Let's just say the stress was at a maximum.

Then John Murdock began calling. Pretty regularly. He said he needed to discuss a few things with me. He doesn't know this, but those calls made me really happy. Like all of the nuttiness of the last week or so suddenly dropped to the floor because one of the soldiers of art from the Lower East Side needed a chat. Knowing him it was a huge project. John loves huge projects, particularly is they involve politics or anti-religious themes. He's the best.

We finally made contact. On a warm summer day my family was off to the beach. I was back at the house doing anything I could think of that would help me keep my heard down (doctor's orders). I was on the deck playing guitar when my phone rang.

I won't tell you what was said because I think it's meant to be a surprise, but I will give you some hints:

Politics
Media
Shock

and after a brief chat with me it also includes a happening involving everyone in "the scene".

These are the kinds of people I like talking to because the have huge ideas and want to make a difference. So do I. I like that I don't have to have all the big ideas. It gets tiring and I'm happy to support other people's big ideas..assuming they're good ;)

I should mention my sister and I won an award for our band, "The Sister's Rock". Best comedic performance from this organization we've done a few fundraisers for. The reason I mention this is because my sister and I did this just for fun. Not really seriously. I should take a note from that and perhaps allow myself a little more fun with my art. Maybe that will be my new goal this fall.


PHOTO ABOVE IS OF MY EYE POST OP WITH A FLOATING GAS BUBBLE INSIDE TO HOLD THE RETINA IN PLACE

#1-SURVIVAL

I'm an actress- first and foremost. It is my best skill. It is what I am here to do. I know this. I am also a comedian, a teacher, and a film/theatre producer. I also sell real estate. I've had to navigate my way through jobs until I found my way. This is where I will share my experiences and discoveries as I travel a path as a gal in showbiz.

Sadly, when most actors say they are actors most people assume they must be waiting tables. They assume this because it is generally true. Artists of every kind struggle with finding a way to pay the bills in a way that makes them feel good about themselves. I'm convinced that this is because employers have a bad association with artists and feel their careers are an interference with the way the world works. What they don't realize is that actors can be the most loyal and fabulous employees who will do anything for you. Just let them go to auditions! Appreciate them. Encourage them. It's not their fault they were born with this talent.

My path is like any artist. A labyrinth and puzzle pieces leading me step by step through the gauntlet of survival. It's the same challenge for anyone who wants to do anything in show biz- survival. Yes..when you want to be in one of the most competitive businesses there is, chances are survival while you try to reach your goals will be a challenge. A huge challenge. In the beginning I babysat, waitressed, hosted, and answered phones. Those are what I call "typical" actor survival jobs. What I learned is that I'm a terrible waitress, but I'm funny. As long as everyone else at the restaurants I worked at understood making people laugh is what got me 20% tips and left me alone, I was fine. I was lucky enough to have 2 jobs like that. The other restaurants didn't have the pleasure of my company for very long. I've met many actors who have shriveled into dry, hard husks from working in restaurants. It's one of the saddest things ever. I was fortunate enough to have people in my life who reminded me I was an artist first and foremost and I had to honor that. To do that meant I needed to find a survival job that nurtured me and didn't kill me.

I started to temp. I figured I could stand an office as long as I wasn't there long enough to get involved with office politics or gossip. I am certain to this day that if companies just eliminated all of the hang out, gossip, liquid lunch, chit chat, water cooler, cigarette breaks of corporate America then everyone could get a work day squeezed into 4 hours and go home. I plan to try this theory when I'm working for my production company full time. I'm very efficient.

So..temping. Day 1 my supervisor pulls me aside and tells me to stop working so fast. I thought I misunderstood him. He was giving me little assignment here and there as his assistant and I was ripping through them like gangbusters. Like I said, a 4 hour day and work ethic like mine would made a better world. Anyway, he wanted me to "milk it". Stretch the filing, sorting, alphabetizing, whatever until 5pm when we would all run to the elevator like the building was on fire. I found "milking" was like a slow horrible death and a pox on my soul.

Luckily for me the next day I got a job offer. A small event firm run by a friend wanted to bring me on to produce events for huge non for profits. They would pay me $10 more than I was making is Lazy Town, and I'd be working with a bunch of young and creative women. I left at lunch and the temp agency put a hex on me. I didn't care. I just got my first paying gig in producing!

Links: My favorite waitressing job was in college at MY HERO in New Paltz, NY