drunkencynic's Diaryland Diary

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much ado about everything

Today I was pissed off because I got up early (well, early for having gone to bed at two o'clock in the morning for a week, not to mention participating in various other stressful/impairing activities) and walked all the way to work and it turned out I'd been erased on the schedule. Thanks for telling me.

Yesterday I was working with Nani, and she was asking about the play.
"Who wrote it?" she asked.
I'm cutting her some slack, she's uneducated.
"William Shakespeare," I reply indulgently.
"Oh, yeah, I think I've heard of him. I saw some videos of his life."
Interesting. "Biographies?" I ask.
"Yeah, I guess. There was this one [and here I am expecting to correct her about Shakespeare in Love. How unassuming I am] where his mother and uncle were fooling around behind his dad's back, and then they find out that the uncle might have had something to do with the dad's death..."
"That's Hamlet!" I don't seem to be able to stop myself from screeching.
Some people should not be allowed to run amuck in society.

But she did redeem herself later that day.
Two very unusually pretty girls came in, and the prettier of the two asked for an application. Nani exclaimed, "They look like models! Yeah? Don't they know this is a resturaunt job?"
I restrain myself from saying something biting, and she surprises me with, "The model position has been filled," pointing to me. For the rest of the day I love her.

Then a woman came in no more than five minutes after that, and promptly exclaimed, upon looking at me, "You're so gorgeous! You could be a model!"
To which Nani said, "See? What'd I say?"
The woman proceeded to list all her various odd-jobs (and I do mean odd), which included (but were not limited to) Reverend, belly-dancer, and mermaid-tail-maker.
At this last I let out a squeal (I hope you haven't forgotten my obsession with mermaids) and she offered to bring in some samples. The tails are apparently latex and she and some friends have a business selling pictures of 'mermaids' swimming in the sea in the tails. They look quite realistic, and are absolutely gorgeous.
I'm sure you've guessed where this is going. Suffice it to say that she has my number and eternal admiration, and I have her business card, a promise to call, and a 'modeling' prospect of the most intriguing sort.

She was pressing me about whether I wanted to be a model or not. She asked me what I wanted to do with myself after high school, and I gave her the usual monologue, "I want to be in New York, preferably Juilliard or NYU. I'd like to study voice."
"....and be a model, right?"
"Uh, no. I just want to sing and act."
"What do you sing?"
"Opera." (I love that. There is no better one-word answer that can shock a person as much as that one)
(after much gasping and exclamation) "But you're kinda small for that!"
Lady, I'm yours.
We then reminisced about Maria Callas, who was a tiny woman. I seriously don't know where these stereotypes come from. There are just as many small opera singers these days as large.

I would never want to be a model. I don't have the body type, and it sounds like a scary dark world. I don't know much about it, but from what I've heard, it's not at all worth it.

Something that caused me great pain the other day was talking to my mom (which is not a first). I was lamenting about how Felicity's repeated complaints and criticisms of me while she lavishly compliments the rest of the cast has got me way down and not wanting to tell anyone about the show. It makes me very sad, because I find myself stopping mid-invite because my director thinks I suck, so I must. Especially if she is "Brilliant!"-ing people I don't find brilliant.

My mom has absolutely no sympathy for me in these instances and tells me that I can't take criticism, then proceeds to take the opportunity to point out all manners of character flaws. Upon my mascara-soaked wails about how I must be a horrible actress, and a plea to tell me the truth about it, she says, "You're a good actress, but you're not as good an actress as you are a singer." Which sends me into fits. My mom does not sugar-coat things if you're digging in deep to her opinions. Not to me, anyway. She will to anyone else. She does, however, later clarify the remark by saying, "Well, you're a fantastic singer!" Which makes me feel a little better, but I guess I had hoped that I was or had the obvious potential to be a really good actress. No, wait, actor. The serious kind. Who reads books and studies parts and gets "Brilliant!" reviews.

I guess I really can't take criticism.

This girl got laid today. Perfectly.

Thank you.

10:30 p.m. - 2003-09-16

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