My Soon-to-be New Favorite Show!

Part of pursuing my blackting dreams involves submitting my headshot and resume for various roles that are being cast. I'm registered with one site that sends me alerts based on my background/look. Unfortunately, it seems that they don't think very highly of me. I just got sent the following breakdown that was "Fit for ME!"

Project Type: Documentary Series

SEEKING: PEOPLE WHO ACT LIKE ANIMALS

Do you have a primal animal behavior?
New series looking for people who act as if they are animals. Do you have awkward pets* that you have relationships with (non sexual)? Do you live on a raw meat diet, on road kill or squirrels? Have you transformed your life to be more like an animal? Do you have an owner?

Some of the stories we've looked into:

FOOD
Tim's pets are his best friends. Throughout the years, he's grown to envy their simple lives, and as a way to develop a deeper connection with them, he's begun sharing their dinner on the floor. He feels that the line between master and pet is arbitrary,^ and that we can all learn a lot from our humble companions.

DOG HOUSE
Tim is an ex-addict who was kicked out of his parent's house as a teenager. For years, he lived in various backyard doghouses for shelter, moving to find a new one whenever the homeowners became suspicious. Now that he's gotten clean, his sister has allowed him to move in with her but he still insists on living in a doghouse in her backyard. He feels safe in the small space with the creatures that never rejected him.

INNER WOLF
Tina saw dead wolves on the side of the road growing up.* As it traumatized her, it has been the one animal that she feels most connected to. Ergo, Julie has adopted extreme wolf traits in her life such as leaving at dusk to scale the mountains of Moab to howl in the wind. Julie doesn't eat what others serve for dinner, she likes her raw steak sinking her teeth and devouring just as wolves do. Julie also sleeps in her wolf bed** outside the home.

LEECH LIFE
Tillie enjoys having pet leeches, but more importantly she loves the feeling she gets when she puts them on her skin, allowing them to feed. Sarah and her partner Michael take turns feeding the leeches two times every day. Loving her leeches, Sarah wouldn't want to have any other pet.

We are interested in trying to understand any unique animal or primal behavior!

What about this made them think of me? I don't even have the world "animal" listed on my resume. The whole, "do you have an owner?" question has so much racist innuendo, I may have to discuss with the website. Of course, my confusion was quickly eclipsed by the fact that this is a new show in production that I can't wait to watch on the regular. Guys, this is like Animal Hoarders + Fatal Attractions + Intervention + My Strange Addiction wrapped in a flour tortilla!!! Set your DVRs for EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.

*I love the idea of an "awkward pet"--I picture a ferret that just stares at one corner of a room all day.

^Arbitrary?! You know this man is CauCRAYsian.

*Wait, like, were these regular occurrences, or was it just this one time at band camp?

**What is a "wolf bed"--if there's one thing that isn't animal-like, it's having furniture of any kind.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Black History Month.....

What up Blossoms and Joeys? I’m poking my head out of a pile of work to remind y’all to celebrate the young, gifted, and black.
Except for me.

"Why so self-loathing, Sojo?" Well, I found out yesterday that I didn’t get the job I applied for. Even though I was sorta on the fence about working for a company that would haze a prospective employee with crazy-ass MacGuyver questions, the rejection stings—especially since it means I’m no closer to getting off of this plantation. This is not what BHM is about!!

I did have my meeting with the agent on Tuesday, though, and it’s amazing how simple it was. I basically went in, read some copy (and sounded a bit too “serious” for Zyrtec eye drops—what is with me and allergy-med commercials?), and she said she’d start sending me out! I wasn’t amazing or anything, but she’s gonna give me a shot and see how I go. In business lingo, I’m “freelancing” with her, which she described as, “we’re dating. We’re getting to know each other, and if we like each other we’ll get engaged and get married.”
If only all of my relationships were so simple.

She did suggest I get new headshots, which made my wallet start to cry, but at least I’ll know what I’m aiming for. She’s really funny and motherly, and was very impressed by my put-togetherness (I have a feeling being employed in the real, non-actor world will really give me a leg up when it comes to the details). Crossing my fingers (for luck) AND my legs (for black Jesus)!

Although my day job is still rough,* at least I have some blackting opportunities coming up.

For those in the NYC area, here’s the info:
TONIGHT (2/3), 8:30pm – The Grisly Pear (107 MacDougal Street)
Wednesday, 2/9, 9pm – Under St. Marks Theater – hosting a sketch show! (8th ave btw. 1st Ave and Ave A)
Friday, 2/11, 8:30pm – ABC No Rio, Lower East Side – It’s an OK Cupid-themed comedy show, where hilarious NYC performers share there online dating horror stories.
Saturday, 2/12, 8pm – The Cove, in Williamsburg – NY Confidential storytelling show, with the unimitable Eugene Ashton! It’s very 1920s, speakeasy-style--but without the racial tensions.

* my boss actually compared himself to Hugh Heffner yesterday
Massa: I was reading The First 10 Years of Playboy and, you know, he was a revolutionary. And he never backed down. He did what he wanted to do, even when people told him he was wrong, and look at him now!
Me: So that means you don’t want me to respond to this subscriber’s e-mail?

These Are the Breaks!

Happy Friday, y’all!

What a week it’s been. Highs, lows, heavy days, light days. Today’s a light day. I coul even ride a bike.

I’m still reeling from the inception, creation, and blow-uption that is Black Swanson. Me and KWalsh were just doing what we do every day from our respective cubicles: joking around about portmanteaus, discussing our favorite bears, and toolin’ around with photoshop. Next thing you know, we’ve got a wacky image that's reblogged more than 400 times, re-tweeted more than…anything Kanye West ever says, deemed “so relevant it hurts,” and reblogged on MovieLine.com. That’s, like, a real website, y’all.

Wednesday night I had a show at Comix Comedy Club—nothing fancy, a regular bringer. What made this show stress inducing was the fact that my MOM was going to be in attendance. This would be her first time seeing me do stand-up. Ever. She’s seen me in plays in college, but to hear me on stage telling my TRUTH….well, let’s just say I was freaking out backstage. My mind was racing with such thoughts as “Should I keep it clean and not discuss WINTERcourse?” and “Definitely don’t do the joke about Ps in the V without a C—that’ll lead to a talk you’re not ready to have. “

When I got in I went backstage and tried to avoid the crowd. I had to duck out to meet Jewboo, and when I did I not only saw my mother, but two of her homegirls from work, whom I’ve known all my life.
Mom threw me for a loop. She turned my show into a straight-up Waiting to Exhale type of night!

My mom is definitely Angela Bassett.

The show went really well, and not only did my mother think I was funny (and get really tipsy off of two white-wine spritzers—damn you, drink minimum) but the show’s booker came up to me afterwards and said, “You’re really good. I’m gonna put you on an industry show,” meaning the special shows clubs host where they invite talent to perform for agents, producers, etc. Holla!!!

Thursday witnessed the unveiling of the blacktress's second piece on TheHairpin, in which I discuss my adolescent indecent exposure in front of Double Dare host Marc Summers.

Unfortunately, due to the insanity that is the northeast winter, my agent meeting set for yesterday was canceled. I’m okay with that, seeing as I didn’t know how I could possibly dress to impress when 10 inches of snow and slush were on the ground (at best, she would have put me in a Home Depot commercial). We’re scheduled for this coming Tuesday, which gives me plenty of time to lose 12 pounds and get my hair did.

I’m actually not that nervous for the meeting, because, really, it’s all about filling a slot. I learned in my commercial class that my "breakdown" is 'a black female, age 25-35 (in acting years), with a fresh, accessible look'. I’m signed up for a few different websites that list casting notices, and you can put in your information (age range, height, ethnicity, photo, etc) and receive personalized e-mails with casting calls that fit your type. I get two emails a day, which might have you thinking there are tons of roles for a blacktress. Unfortunately, I’m not quite right for any of these parts. Here are a couple of the recent breakdowns I’ve received (all from various film and television projects):



Tina: Early 30s, beautiful, strong, ambitious but extremely vengeful.

Stacy: 26-30. Cute and curvy, Stacy is the more naïve of the two. A Jr. marketing associate, she’s bored of her unchallenging job so she goes after excitement (i.e. drama) in her personal life.
[Um, wait a minute. Those first two sound a lot like me.]


Apparently, one website thought this character breakdown was so fitting, they sent it to my inbox with a “red alert”:

Pam: 40s, A very obese woman, waitress. She's busy but friendly.

Dina: His beautiful wife. Passionate, dangerous, immoral. 35-40.

Role: First Slave. Breakdown: 30-45, tawny-skinned Moor captured and sold in the marketplace

Kim:(20s)- John's junkie girlfriend. Chic in a six-months-to-live kind of way.


Oh yeah, that way. Apparently, things aren’t so post-racial that a blacktress can be fit for a part playing someone young, gifted, and of a healthy weight and size. I mean, I shouldn't be surprised now that the they want to put the goodness of brown in white!

Have a good weekend, y’all!


xoxo,
blacktress

Casting Call (A Metaphor)

**WARNING: This post is not what you're used to. Read on and bear with the blacktress, or wait for the next post, which will hopefully be funny. **

So, I've been alluding to a certain young gentleman in a few of my October and September posts. And, as is usual for the blacktress -- and, as the hit song goes -- another one bites the dust.

I take these things harder than one probably should. I agonize in ways that, although can be HI-larious (where's my book deal?!), they can also drive me cray. And, I think I've finally figured out why I freak out. This information is nothing new, but as it goes with Sojo, I need to write out the TRUTH for it to set me free.

I am great on first dates. First dates are, for me, similar to an audition. I walk in effortlessly, taking a shot in the dark, and that energy and devil-may-care attitude is appealing. I play with my lines, I swallow my direction whole and give it back, because...well, why not? This person doesn't know what I've got, has nothing to compare my behavior to, and we're just gonna have fun for a couple minutes. Sometimes it doesn't stick, and I don't get the part. But that's usually okay, because I never knew more than those 3 or 4 pages of dialogue I had to audition with.

But then there are the callbacks. The second, third, fourth--and, if i'm lucky, fifth--dates, where I'm getting to know more about what I'm up against. Where I start to imagine myself in the role, see the possibilities, and get excited.

And I become terrified. The stakes are 40 stories high because I actually have a shot. It means he sees something in me that is better than the majority. So the sweat begins. The pacing, the worrying, the babbling. My lines no longer flow, because I've got one eye on the director, checking his response before I continue. Statements previously made with ease now end in question marks.

"I really like Ani Difranco? [Unless that intimidates you, in which case, I won't bring up music at all, and deflect to your interests.]" Things I know in my heart to be true, I become afraid to say, because in the past, it's been the "wrong direction for that character."

Don't get me wrong. My sense of self is strong. I know who I am, and sometimes I'm a hot-ass R. Kelly-style mess, and other times I'm RuPaul fabulous. I cannot change my core, and I don't aim to when I put myself out there. I just see myself as malleable, able to win over all sorts of people--depending on the order in which I choose to show you my range.

Because, when you're in a callback--when you're really being considered--the difference between scoring the role and not getting a phone call comes down to the minutiae. It's not that you don't fit--it's that you don't slide in effortlessly.

It could come down to your height. Or the way the camera captures you. Or the tiniest tick or gesture that, when magnified, suddenly becomes grating. Or it could be the way you turn a phrase that reminds the director of someone they hated, and now, no matter what, there's that association. Or it could simply be the color of your hair. And, although you could dye it (you'd still be yourself, it'd still be your skill), they don't really need you to when the girl two seats down is a natural. And although you've got the goods, they don't quite see you in their big picture.

Remember that this is a metaphor--forming relationships isn't this simple, and the status differences inherent in a director-desperate actor relationship are not always the way the get-to-know-you phase is constructed. And, as most people know, half the battle of "getting to production" is the deep desire to create something in the first place. It's the desire to put up with the difficulties.

So I know these are broad stream-of-consciousness strokes that don't get at the details. But I find the end emotion is similar because, when you consciously date, you present yourself. You package yourself in the most attractive way. You are a product, and you're trying to prove that product's worth. The frustration for both actors and lovers comes from knowing that you've got the goods, that you are good, and yet you don't have your shot yet. So do you keep on getting up and out there, knowing that all you can do is your best? How do you keep bringing your best stuff when you know that most times your best won't be good enough?

Or do you just stay in the bubble of acting classes and rehearsals, talking it out with friends and doing exercises that strengthen both your skills and your resolve?

I don't know.

So, I guess I don't really have a point. Just a different kind of post.