My acting class may start to replace therapy as my new therapy. I need somewhere to vent the feelings caused by the instability of my financial life (not to imply, in any way, that my personal life is a bastion of stability, but that's another blog...), and I worry that my therapist is tired of hearing about it.
Last night I worked on my best sultry, hip-swaying stroll and southern drawl, so when I read,"You can be young without money, but you can't be old without it!" I sounded like a sexy cat
on a hot tin roof, and not someone negotiating with her creditors. Either I was poor white southern trash in a past life, or Tennessee Williams really gets me. That was a really fun scene.

However, at one point, I got stuck playing Cordelia and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't quite muster up the compassion for Daddy Lear. I kept trying to sound angelic and sincere, but what came out was more Kelly Osbourne-ish.

Just for today, I can study acting.

I was an extra on an episode of "Sex and the City" (LOVE THAT SHOW!) Oddly enough, the episode that we were shooting has already been shot (when she and Aidan break up for the second time in front of the giant fountain). I found this very strange and brought this up to Sara Jessica Parker.

"But the DVD has been out for years!" I argued. She shrugged and told me that they hadn't gotten it right the first time.

No matter to me, I was getting my big break. However, whenever the camera alighted upon me or in my direction, I looked directly into it (which, unless you're Ferris Bueller, is a cardinal faux pas). The director was pissed. I realized my acting career was over.

And then I woke up.

Thoughts?

Just for today, I can dream about being on my favorite show (which is over).

My Voice for the Stage teacher assigned us monologues to work on. We work on the same piece for the entire semester. Here's mine:

"You think of me as the girl you used to know, grown older. But I'm not. I'm different, I'm changed. Some sort of flame seems to have burned out. And now, I'm just cold, and old, and empty hearted."

(This monologue is from the play "Plenty" by David Hare)

Is someone trying to tell me something? Do I really actually seem that washed up and played out? I mean, I know it's been a while since I've "made contact" (can you think of a lamer euphemism for sex?) with anyone (salsa just doesn't cut it)...but does it show? A woman in the class came up to me after the first time I performed it and told me that I was VERY believable. She then went on to say that she was SO GLAD, our teacher didn't assign this monologue to her.

Are things actually worse than they seem?

I know on some level, that I am single and fabulous. The part of me that feels cold and old and empty hearted, felt that way when I was 18...

Still...should I be scared?

Just for today, I can go to acting class.

My Voice for the Stage teacher assigned us monologues to work on. We work on the same piece for the entire semester. Here's mine:

"You think of me as the girl you used to know, grown older. But I'm not. I'm different, I'm changed. Some sort of flame seems to have burned out. And now, I'm just cold, and old, and empty hearted."

(This monologue is from the play "Plenty" by David Hare)

Is someone trying to tell me something? Do I really actually seem that washed up and played out? I mean, I know it's been a while since I've "made contact" (can you think of a lamer euphemism for sex?) with anyone (salsa just doesn't cut it)...but does it show? A woman in the class came up to me after the first time I performed it and told me that I was VERY believable. She then went on to say that she was SO GLAD, our teacher didn't assign this monologue to her.

Are things actually worse than they seem?

I know on some level, that I am single and fabulous. The part of me that feels cold and old and empty hearted, felt that way when I was 18...

Still...should I be scared?

Just for today, I can go to acting class.