i'm sad
alright. this will be finished and elaborated upon further in the future. but for now, i think my biggest concern involves the dried tears and dirty towel--said tears, and yes, probably snot are on aforementioned towel--sitting next to me on the mini-couch. loveseat. whatever. i can't believe i'm trying to 'witty' myself. as if i could trick ME? you are you jasmine. you can't trick yourself.
and i apparently can't con my teacher. my acting teacher. i think that con is a harsh word, you know. and for once, i wasn't running a con, i was just being myself. i really let my guard down. no big smile, no talking to 'the audience' which in this case would be my classmates, a mix and mash of semi-professional actors and doofus-losers who have been in the game to long. and like, if she knew me she would see that my behavior in front of the camera is all about letting those flaws show, you know. because, i'm, i AM a very good actress. but the real me is a girl who is very ok with the imperfections. it's the "actress" in me that appears all poised and confident in front of people, that can stand and talk to anyone, hold a conversation by herself with three or four people. the real me has a much softer voice, few people know that. i didn't run a con, didn't 'try' t charm her but expected the naturalness to ooze through. anyway, i just, i thought that because she was my teacher, that i, that i could just be myself. you know, don't get me wrong, because i DO intend to learn. i'm not some slob in class. but at the same time i am there to say 'hey, this is me and i am not going to pretend that i am amazing (even though we all know i am) because i KNOW that there is always something to learn. so anyway [i've started crying again by the way] i get confused by the way she is my teacher, but it's like, you're supposed to be 'perfect' because at the same time she is a legitimate casting director. and if that's what it's like to have a casting director as your teacher then i would rather have a balding man in a high school gymnasium making me do improv. because the casting director bit is too mean for me, or maybe i'm just a stupid baby and need to toughen up--which is probably part, if not all of the lesson--or maybe i just tried an experiment, an experiment in being my nice, sort of humbled, sort of grateful and proud to have been accepted and paid for this expensive acting class, young girl from alabama, just trying to do the best she can and...fuck it. it was a failure, and i was convinced up until a few minutes ago that i would never go back. because i DON'T like the class. like, you're taking a class, but you're always 'on'! and it's just not what i'm used to. and i said that to her and i saw that for the first time she was really genuine about understanding how hard and confusing that is. and yeah, i just ran out of there at the end.
and the only conclusion i can make is that the real me isn't liked by the majority of the world.
and this is just so crushing. i cried the entire subway ride home, came home to amber (finally) and hysterically broke down to her, and i just feel terrible. i feel, i guess, like someone kicked me, literally, as hard as they could, as if they raised their thigh all the way up to THEIR chest, and by the way they have on cowboy boots, the good kind like i have, and they rear themselves all the way back and just knock the SHIT out of you with one big ka-pow!...that hurts. that's serious. and it was so embarassing, and here's the thing, it wasn't even a scene. it was my first class and she told me to 'slate' and she said it to me as if i didn't know what it meant. she would later be so at a loss for questions after hearing me awkwardly stumble through so maany that she would ask me 'do you come from an acting background?' oh my gosh, it couldn't get any worse than that and this was my first time meeting her. i feel like the biggest loser...ever. i can't wait for kabbalah class to re-start after some shit like this. because, you know, all these things i'm feeling must be some really big indicators of some things i need to deal with. you know, these feelings that i keep blaming her for 'making me feel' like this and like that. now THAT's something you can deal with in a class. fuck.
and then amber keeps telling me 'Tomorrow is a new day'. and i don't like capital letters--too pushy if you ask me--but i used a capital letter there, and that's her voice. it has a song to it. it's goingg upwards, 'Tomorrow is new day!' and i finally just told her:
I DON'T WANT A NEW DAY, I WANT TO DO TODAY OVER! OK?!
and i mean that. why do people say tomorrow is a new day. as if people didn't fucking know that? it's one thing to say 'be grateful for tomorrow' but just telling me the OBVIOUS isn't going to cheer a motherfucker, now is it? no, it's not, and that's not a put-down to amber AT ALL. i mean, she is smart and really great about dealing with the break-downs. but still, what a dumb fucking phrase, huh?
poof. that's how it feelss when i am sitting here breathing like this. the scary part is that this sort of thing fuels what i would like to think of as manic episodes, even though i am most certainly not manic. you know, i actually used to wish i was manic, like seriously, because that way you'd have times when you'd get alot of shit done and then other times when you would say, maybe sleep for a month straight. hey, everyone needs downtime, and i mean it'd really only be the time that you got alot of shit done that people would remember anyway, right? hell, sounds good to me, i'd love to have unstoppable drive like that, hence the old wish. anyway, i'm not manic, and uh, hooray for that, but anyway, this sort of thing is EXACTLY what makes me obsess over something. you know, like her asking me what director i'd really like to work with and me not having an answer will now haunt me in my sleep. i can ASSURE you that i will have a favorite director and four hundred reasons for why that is by tomorrow evening. the research won't be hard. it will start with me thinking about favorite movies, probably while shaving my legs in the shower, and it will grow and grow and grow from there until i am kickig myself in the ass for not knowing THAT very answer on what would have been today. i just, i am just so much better than what i showed and in an already pathetic moment, it just wasn't that gratifying to stand in a realy small stall and quietly sob. and then to have to keep standing there until everyone in my class and probably the whole studio left late and i was confident--funny word--confident that no one would be in the elevator with me and see how red my nose was. oh, jasmine.
shit. i just looked at the clock and realized that i started writing this around 11:40-something. and now it's...
ha ha.
sigh, i guess it's going to be ok. dude, it's 12:27. it's today, man. it's todaaaaaay! it is the VERY new day that she kept talking about. ha ha.
the new day is feeling much better. the new day is going strong.
and i apparently can't con my teacher. my acting teacher. i think that con is a harsh word, you know. and for once, i wasn't running a con, i was just being myself. i really let my guard down. no big smile, no talking to 'the audience' which in this case would be my classmates, a mix and mash of semi-professional actors and doofus-losers who have been in the game to long. and like, if she knew me she would see that my behavior in front of the camera is all about letting those flaws show, you know. because, i'm, i AM a very good actress. but the real me is a girl who is very ok with the imperfections. it's the "actress" in me that appears all poised and confident in front of people, that can stand and talk to anyone, hold a conversation by herself with three or four people. the real me has a much softer voice, few people know that. i didn't run a con, didn't 'try' t charm her but expected the naturalness to ooze through. anyway, i just, i thought that because she was my teacher, that i, that i could just be myself. you know, don't get me wrong, because i DO intend to learn. i'm not some slob in class. but at the same time i am there to say 'hey, this is me and i am not going to pretend that i am amazing (even though we all know i am) because i KNOW that there is always something to learn. so anyway [i've started crying again by the way] i get confused by the way she is my teacher, but it's like, you're supposed to be 'perfect' because at the same time she is a legitimate casting director. and if that's what it's like to have a casting director as your teacher then i would rather have a balding man in a high school gymnasium making me do improv. because the casting director bit is too mean for me, or maybe i'm just a stupid baby and need to toughen up--which is probably part, if not all of the lesson--or maybe i just tried an experiment, an experiment in being my nice, sort of humbled, sort of grateful and proud to have been accepted and paid for this expensive acting class, young girl from alabama, just trying to do the best she can and...fuck it. it was a failure, and i was convinced up until a few minutes ago that i would never go back. because i DON'T like the class. like, you're taking a class, but you're always 'on'! and it's just not what i'm used to. and i said that to her and i saw that for the first time she was really genuine about understanding how hard and confusing that is. and yeah, i just ran out of there at the end.
and the only conclusion i can make is that the real me isn't liked by the majority of the world.
and this is just so crushing. i cried the entire subway ride home, came home to amber (finally) and hysterically broke down to her, and i just feel terrible. i feel, i guess, like someone kicked me, literally, as hard as they could, as if they raised their thigh all the way up to THEIR chest, and by the way they have on cowboy boots, the good kind like i have, and they rear themselves all the way back and just knock the SHIT out of you with one big ka-pow!...that hurts. that's serious. and it was so embarassing, and here's the thing, it wasn't even a scene. it was my first class and she told me to 'slate' and she said it to me as if i didn't know what it meant. she would later be so at a loss for questions after hearing me awkwardly stumble through so maany that she would ask me 'do you come from an acting background?' oh my gosh, it couldn't get any worse than that and this was my first time meeting her. i feel like the biggest loser...ever. i can't wait for kabbalah class to re-start after some shit like this. because, you know, all these things i'm feeling must be some really big indicators of some things i need to deal with. you know, these feelings that i keep blaming her for 'making me feel' like this and like that. now THAT's something you can deal with in a class. fuck.
and then amber keeps telling me 'Tomorrow is a new day'. and i don't like capital letters--too pushy if you ask me--but i used a capital letter there, and that's her voice. it has a song to it. it's goingg upwards, 'Tomorrow is new day!' and i finally just told her:
I DON'T WANT A NEW DAY, I WANT TO DO TODAY OVER! OK?!
and i mean that. why do people say tomorrow is a new day. as if people didn't fucking know that? it's one thing to say 'be grateful for tomorrow' but just telling me the OBVIOUS isn't going to cheer a motherfucker, now is it? no, it's not, and that's not a put-down to amber AT ALL. i mean, she is smart and really great about dealing with the break-downs. but still, what a dumb fucking phrase, huh?
poof. that's how it feelss when i am sitting here breathing like this. the scary part is that this sort of thing fuels what i would like to think of as manic episodes, even though i am most certainly not manic. you know, i actually used to wish i was manic, like seriously, because that way you'd have times when you'd get alot of shit done and then other times when you would say, maybe sleep for a month straight. hey, everyone needs downtime, and i mean it'd really only be the time that you got alot of shit done that people would remember anyway, right? hell, sounds good to me, i'd love to have unstoppable drive like that, hence the old wish. anyway, i'm not manic, and uh, hooray for that, but anyway, this sort of thing is EXACTLY what makes me obsess over something. you know, like her asking me what director i'd really like to work with and me not having an answer will now haunt me in my sleep. i can ASSURE you that i will have a favorite director and four hundred reasons for why that is by tomorrow evening. the research won't be hard. it will start with me thinking about favorite movies, probably while shaving my legs in the shower, and it will grow and grow and grow from there until i am kickig myself in the ass for not knowing THAT very answer on what would have been today. i just, i am just so much better than what i showed and in an already pathetic moment, it just wasn't that gratifying to stand in a realy small stall and quietly sob. and then to have to keep standing there until everyone in my class and probably the whole studio left late and i was confident--funny word--confident that no one would be in the elevator with me and see how red my nose was. oh, jasmine.
shit. i just looked at the clock and realized that i started writing this around 11:40-something. and now it's...
ha ha.
sigh, i guess it's going to be ok. dude, it's 12:27. it's today, man. it's todaaaaaay! it is the VERY new day that she kept talking about. ha ha.
the new day is feeling much better. the new day is going strong.