Luckystott

2004-07-13 - 8:57 p.m.

What the...?

SO. I am temping at this ritzy private bank this week.

Last weekend, I went to Kinko's and scanned a bunch of pictures for my photo essay (you know, the one I promised to you for this week because I was too injured to write on Friday?). Silly me, I was thinking I could work on my entry while I was at the bank.

Well, once I got settled in at my desk this morning, I pulled my disk out of its little sleeve in my planner and looked under the desk -- wait a minute, no tower?

No. No tower. No disk drive. The fahncy computer has this ass-y program called iManage that sorts, files, and labels every single document with a six digit number. But I don't normally work at this bank -- I don't care for my private writing to be stored on the central data bank for anyone in the tech group to find and read, you know?

So NO FUN for me this week as far as personal writing goes.

Oh, and the frosting on that cake? I went to Kinko's after dance class to tweak my resume for an audition tomorrow -- adding the show I am auditioning for, since I've done it twice but don't normally have it on my resume -- ANYWAY, I finished that and then I thought "Hey, I'll just upload my pictures right now!"

Well, SOMEHOW, I scanned the pictures wrong (again!) and couldn't get them to convert to .jpg -- Grrrrrrr!

It's not like I would have had time to write my entry anyway. Here's something really special that happened Monday night: My boss was at a conference in upstate NY and got caught in a massive downpour. It killed his cell phone and blackberry -- they got drenched in his coat pocket. Until he gets home tomorrow evening? I am his SOLE means of communication during the work day. I was glued to my desk all day today as he utilized a courtesy phone at the hotel and had me transfer him from call to call. Yep. Big fun. I had to find the number in Outlook, dial, hit mute and stay on the line during each call. When the other person would hang up, he'd direct me to the next call. In addition, I was juggling the other eight phone lines and ALSO going thru his inbox and reading off/replying to people who had sent email to him, thinking he was able to read their messages on the blackberry while he was away from the office. It was...one of those days in which I actually EARNED my Big Diva temping rate.

What else? OH. I saw "Jumpers" on Sunday.

Here's what I liked:

Essie Davis' hot bod. She's nekkid for most of the first act and she was SOLID. Brick house! You better go ON, woman. I was impressed.

Here's what I didn't like:

The rest of the show.

Now, I knew going in that it was a Tom Stoppard play. But I just...okay. Apparently? I can't "do philosophy" when it's 80 degrees outside on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon.

Sigh. I don't know what was worse: the lead actor going off on two (two!) half hour monologues in which he repeatedly questioned the existence of God - OR - being surrounded by pretentious intellectuals who were smugly guffawing at every other line because they are so "in" on the joke and aren't they clever for "getting it"?

From my vantage point on the balcony, I saw a total Niles Crane type sitting in the front row -- head tilted slightly to the side, ankle resting on opposite knee (replete with, yes, a bit of argyle sock) -- and he was nodding his head in agreement to everything the lead actor said. Also? He was wearing this crazy joyful smirk the entire time like he was totally getting off on it. And I'm like, "Dude? This isn't FUN. Fun is a Yankees game. Fun is shopping in Soho. Fun is peanut butter frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity3. Philosophy? Isn't FUN."

While the lead actor posed (and re-posed) the question of "Why does God allow the universe to exist?", I was posing a critical question to myself: "What am I DOING sitting in a cold, dark theatre on a Sunday afternoon with a bunch of brainiacs?"

I left during intermission. I know. I never do that. But it was a comp ticket anyway. I couldn't help but feel that I wouldn't be missed by that crowd.

My other big issue with "Jumpers"? There was a troupe of acrobats -- eight men -- that came on during the first two minutes and the last three minutes of Act One. Now, I use the term acrobat extremely lightly. They didn't do anything that I, as a trained dancer, couldn't do. So then I was watching them and feeling a little pissed off because EIGHT PRODUCTION CONTRACTS? For working five minutes in the first act? And was it CRUCIAL to cast all MEN? Because I think some chicks could have done that stuff -- and I don't think it would have destroyed the integrity of the show. Throw a little Broadway love to the ladies, you know?

Tentative props to my union for recently hammering out new terms for some pertinent issues (although we haven't heard EXACTLY what they've agree upon yet). However, I have to say -- the whole "we support minority casting" party line is such bullshit sometimes. There's just MORE women doing this acting thing. Period. We'd love to work, too! If it means allowing women play some of the smaller,traditionally male roles to even things up a little, well, why not? Why not be open to that? True, we could just flat-out use more female plays -- and I think/hope my generation of actresses are getting savvy to that and creating stuff for themselves. (there's only so many productions of Steel Magnolias and Crimes of the Heart one can take...) However, I'm talking about collecting a decent paycheck. Right now, we are up against the economic factor -- theaters are doing old chestnuts that are sure to get butts in the seats. And the older shows that are on the roster right now tend to be male heavy. I'll admit that shows like the upcoming "12 Angry Men" and "Glengarry Glenross" have definite male issues at the thematic core...and I can't say it would be a successful choice to book a few women in these shows -- but that's my point exactly. It hasn't even been tried. Can't we at least try to shake it up a little every now and then just for fun? "Drag Legend" Charles Busch is playing Auntie Mame right now out in the Hamptons and getting rave reviews. So -- why can't more women play male parts? Is there any reason why, for example, the Stage Manager in "Our Town" has to be male? Because I'd like to play that part. Heck -- I'd love to even to bust thru the typical stereotypes in my own gender and play Emily (5'7" - apparently "too tall to be young") or any of the other townswomen (not old enough, too "pretty" to be "character" -- which totally bugs because what does THAT mean? Attractive people aren't characters?). <-- But that's another entry.

This is where I implore passionately: Producers? Casting Directors? Open UP. You got into showbiz because it was more creative than 9 to 5-ing, remember? So use your creativity. We call them PLAYS. Because we are supposed. to. PLAY.

Urf -- Meanwhile, I just ate a whole cup of those crunchy wasabi peas while I was ranting. Gurgle, gurgle - yep. That's my belly while I am trying to sleep tonight.

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