Guys, I'm, Like, Really Well Spoken

Hey friends! I finally recorded my voiceover demo! It starts out with some solid stereotyping and then moves into my true self--you know, showing the range a blacktress needs in these trying times. Give a listen and pass it along to that uncle of yours who works in the biz:


 


I recorded it on May 24 and I already have a meeting with an agent scheduled for THIS AFTERNOON! I'm trying not to get too excited, since it really is all a crapshoot, but I must say it's validating to get such a positive--and prompt--response. Perhaps I can start to live the dream instead of living the dream deferred!

Abrupt transition:

Yesterday I went to a goodbye party for one of my favorite high school teachers (whose son I used to babysit and affectionately refer to as Lil' Massa), which was held in the place where it all began--high school.

(By "it" I mean the self-loathing and outsider tendencies that would eventually lead me to telling un-handle-able truths.)

I didn't know anyone except for a couple teachers and one other guy from my year. We caught up and it turned out he and his wife--a fellow high school classmate--just had a baby 6 weeks ago. As he showed me pictures of their cute baby in their bright, tastefully decorated Brooklyn brownstone (that they own), I realized how far removed I was from this world. One pic showed mom leaning over the baby with a camera.

"Funny story," my friendquaintance begins. "He needs a passport photo and it has to be of him with his eyes opened, not crying, not flailing, and against a white background, so this was a chill moment."

Yes, the baby needs a passport--why? Well, because he and mom are spending the summer in France, of course. #keepingupwiththekardashians

I'm not surprised, really. I understand that wealth begets wealth--and France isn't the pinnacle of 'success' (however you define it)--but I was immediately shuttled back in time to the bar and bat mitzvah days, when I wore the same dress to the afternoon and evening parties and no one else did the same. I mean, here I was, praying that my decision to pay for me demo wasn't a waste of my savings, and there's a fetus still reeking of placenta who needs a passport and all I've got to look forward to this summer is a trip to the D (where it's so, so cold).

Needless to say, I ate a slice of banana bread and two slices of chocolate hazelnut cake as I tried to make my day job sound as exciting as summering in France.

As he rattled off the list of classmates who'd come to see the baby, I was mostly just shocked that they were all still friends. It's crazy how shit doesn't change. I chimed in with whatever I'd managed to glean from Facebook, but my heart just wasn't in it. I knew that I didn't want to be a consultant or a VP or a lawyer (but I did wish I could work for Google), but the ability to navigate the world with the ease that financial security brings would be pretty dope right about now. Granted, I am part of the 99%, but I'd blocked out the fact that I spent most of my formative years with the 1%, and it's probably why I am obsessed with amenities.

Well, this isn't really going anywhere, so I'll stop typing. Here's hopin' I end up as the voice of Seagram's gin and guice, now with ginseng!