Sunday, April 22, 2012

Happy Graduation!


Today I spent 3 hours searching for a job online.  Today I spent 3 hours convincing myself I lack any skills to survive in the real world.  Today I spent 3 hours wondering where my life went wrong. 

For one, I can’t even be a babysitter.  I went to New York fucking University and no one will even let me near their children.  Apparently, if I had wanted to be a professional babysitter, I should have gone into early childhood education.  As an acting student, I can’t even get a job playing with a fucking baby because they apparently need to be supervised by someone with a master’s degree.  Dear Upper East Side family, do you really think someone with a master’s degree in child psychology wants to use their degree to cook chicken fingers for your children?   What could I possibly not know that would make someone a better candidate to walk your children home from school and carry their $200 backpack?  I know all of the songs in “Beauty and the Beast” and “The Aristocats!”  That should be enough!

The cliché of being an actress/waitress is even impossible.  Every New York restaurant wants someone with 3 years experience in fine dining.  I get it.  New York restaurants are craaaazy! I won’t be able to handle the stress! Tourists must have the finest dining experience in the wooooorld!  WELCOME TO HELL!  Whatever.  Let’s be real here.  I am have been studying for the past 4 years to essentially trick you into thinking whatever I want you to think.  I will laugh heartily at your puns, old rich man.  I will feign deep shame and sadness when you tell me your steak is undercooked, crotchety tiny lady. I will smile sweetly to you, evil mother, as your children rub feces onto the menus (I don't think this actually happens at restaurants, but I have a feeling if I was a waitress somehow it would happen to me).  Experience Shmashmerience.  Just let me fucking carry plates to a table. 

I tossed around the thought of doing another unpaid internship and then tossed around the thought of throwing myself onto the subway tracks.  One ad dared suggest duties would include: “copy editing, statistical analysis, and retrieiving Americanos.”  HAHAHAHA Hilarious!  I’m sure you sat at your fancy pants desk laughing smugly to yourself with that one.  When you said “Writing Intern” in the job title, you really should have just told the truth and written “Personal slave.”   I am 100% certain no actual writing will occur at that job unless it is writing down a lunch order to pick up at Le Pain Quotidien. 

In conclusion, please help me find a job.  I will be accepting all offers.  Please note, I can’t draw a straight line or do a cartwheel, but I am willing to learn.  Special skills include singing with my mouth closed and fantastic Katherine McPhee and Liza Minnelli impressions. I’m sure these are in high demand so please spread the word.  

Monday, April 2, 2012

I Am Who I Am


I watched this episode, "Let's Be Bad, " twice because the first time I watched it I found a bag of hint of lime tostitos in my kitchen and couldn’t hear the dialogue over my crunching.  Accept me for who I am.  At least I was eating, which is something that McSleepy clearly doesn’t do.  I realize that I’ve been so concerned with her lack of sleep I’ve completely disregarded another life necessity: FOOD.   She must be anemic!  She’s so frail and weak because she isn’t getting enough iron.  That or dementors are trying to kill her on set.  They haven’t planted the kiss of death on her yet but they are just close enough to her that all of her happiness and energy slips away and she senses the deep sadness of death.  Just a theory. 

The ultimate was when Derek, the director, called on McSleepy during rehearsal to show Ivy how to sing Marilyn’s vibrato (honestly all he could have said was be breathier and more dead and she would have been fine).  “Do what?” McSleepy asks.  She has literally fallen asleep in rehearsal and just woken up from a nap.  “THE VIBRATO.  THE VIBRATO!” he screams. SINGING TERMS.  “The what? You want me to, what?” she whispers.  I mean he can’t really blame her, she is just so tired and needs to catch some sleep wherever she can.  Finally, she sings it and is as lifeless and skeletal as ever.  Literally written in my notes TWICE is “LIFELESS SKELETON.”  Yes, I am cruel and judgmental.  Again, accept me for who I am. 

SULLEN TEEN

Let me stop attacking Katherine McPhee for two seconds and focus on another character.  Who is this Leo fellow?  The son of Brian D’Arcy James and Debra Messing stepped off the set of the Departed and floated on over to Smash.  Where did his accent come from?  I also can’t tell if he is 15 or secretly 40.  More importantly, WHO BRINGS A VAPE TO CENTRAL PARK?  He should have been arrested because that is just plain stupid.  Thank goodness for Tom’s new lover (sexiii…I can’t believe I typed that but I’m going to keep it …I’m not ashamed) busting him out of jail.  I mean Tom couldn’t do it because he’d still be trying to “tap dance him out of jail.”  TEEHEE TEEHEE  I iz musician but I iz dumb. I can do nuthing but play songz  and twirl around 4 u.  UGH. 

Then finally the moment we all have been waiting for happened.  Katherine McPhee sang “It’s a Man’s Man’s World” alone in her bedroom.  Oh, that’s not what you were expecting?  Because I’ve been waiting weeks to see her stuff a blush brush down her boobs and strip down to her underwear.  It’s like totally essential to the plot.  They really needed this scene.  I totally understand her character now.  Just like how I totally understand that she needs to eat a fucking sandwich STAT.  Seriously, you could see each of her vertebrae.  THAT AIN’T CUTE AND THAT AIN’T BROADWAY.  I’m trademarking that phrase.  Look for t-shirts soon.  But let’s be real for a second.  I am so sick of these actresses whining about how they aren’t sexy.  Save that schtick for the rest of us who don’t weigh 2 pounds and look like models.  If Emma Stone tries to convince me and Ryan Gosling she’s awkward and not pretty one more time, I will slit my throat.  I digress. 
Casual Leg Lift 

Oh also, did you guys see that Lakers game?  Man, Kobe is a fucking beast on the court.  I LOVE SPORTS.  NO DUDE, I LOVE SPORTS.  SPORTS ARE AWESOME.  DID YOU HEAR ME? I LOVE SPORTS.  It’s great that they are trying to push for a not “stereotypically” gay character, but they are literally pushing me against a wall trying to bang it into my head.  HE’S GAY AND HE LIKES SPORTS.  WE GET IT.  But at this point it’s just weird that he talks about it so much. 

And finally.  OF COURSE YOUR SON IS GOING TO SEE YOU CHEATING ON YOUR HUSBAND IF THE DUDE YOU ARE CHEATING ON HIM WITH IS BELTING A SONG IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET AT 2 AM.  Try not to be so resonant next time Will Chase.  Though I do admit, YEAAAAAHHHHH I’d be down.  And I hate myself.  ACCEPT ME PLEASE. TOSTITOS, JUDGMENT, YEAAAHHHSSS, AND ALL. 
YEAAAHHHH

P.S. I secretly really liked the "Let's Be Bad" full number.  Perhaps some sort of witchcraft has occurred.