Hi readers. Back in February, I posed for an artist who
photographs and then draws from an arrangement of the photos. I was happy because it was a clothed and paid
gig. The artist sent me a photo of the
drawing in progress. She assured me she
will send me a more professional photo when she is finished. I like the shot of the in-progress drawing.
The judges this time were three men and two women. I sat behind one table of judges and saw them
in action. Though when I judged, we were
instructed not to confer with each other, this group felt free to whisper
things to each other. One judge who was
dressed in his corporate work clothes shared with the other judges at his table
that he tried stand-up and did it until the first time it didn’t go well. Then he stopped. He did not sound like he understood what it
takes to endure those horrible moments or seem to have any respect for the
process. I wondered if he was a bitter
one. He had his girlfriend/wife with
him, but she wasn’t a judge. She didn’t
sit at his table but at the adjacent one.
Next to him was a judge who seemed serious and mature about things, fair
in her scoring of those competing. On
the other side of her was a guy who seemed bitchy. I don’t know how else to describe the vibe. He gave everyone their low score and seemed
to take pleasure in it. Then at the
other table was a young woman judge sitting by herself. At another table was another man who I think
may have been a comic, and I got the feeling he was asked to judge as a last
minute fill-in for a no show judge. Not
confirmed, just my impression. He
laughed at the stuff I detest, so I knew I was not going to have an easy time
of it. The host was different. I preferred the first one I had met.
One comic was good at delivery but the material was not
anything great. The funniest joke he did
was one I had read on Facebook. It was
funny and he got laughs. He scored
decently with unoriginal material.
My material is material I am proud of and I’ve done well with
in the past. This time, there must’ve
been something wrong with my ability to connect. Something was not happening. Even when I got to a point that has always
gotten a strong reaction, there was barely anything. Then I remembered to slow down and look at
people and smile. It got better after
that. Thank goodness, my set finished on
a laughing note.
I auditioned for a short play, something I hadn’t done in a
long time. I had the script page and was
able to prepare. I found the role (what
I could gather of it) to be fun. The
character is a divorced woman who was proposed to by her ex-husband’s former
best friend. She doesn’t accept because
she is still in love with her ex who now has a girlfriend half his age. The play was written by two women. I had to play it to one of the women
writers. In my mind, she was my “Max.” I acted my butt off. I believe trying to rise to the challenge of
doing stand-up (which I find harder) has made me a better actress. Then they had an actor, who was there to
audition for a different part, come in to do it with me. He did not know this part at all and was not
told where the scene ended, and his pages were different than mine, blah blah
blah. So while I am trying hard to
seduce him, he is buried in the script looking for his next line. I remained in character and sort of shimmied
(jiggled my breasts) and said, “Gee, you’re a tough one to get a reaction out
of.” Both women burst out laughing.
I got the part.
