Hey gang. It’s 9:34 am, and I’ve already been on the plantation for 90 minutes. Hell, I’ve already been up for over THREE HOURS. And in that time I’ve exercised (and I don’t mean my demons!), showered, ate oatmeal and watched my morning progrums, AND read all the work emails sent over the holiday break. 2011’s gonna be my year, I tell ya!
Ugh, okay, I can’t keep this energy up. Let’s be real: Yes, I did all of the aforementioned things, but only because I was dreading coming to work. I was walking down the subway platform like it was the green mile, and got in an hour before everyone just so I could get acclimated before all of the "How was your vacation?!" talk started. The three unplanned days in Detroit (and sharing a bed with mom) put a real damper on things, and the hullabaloo of New Year’s left little sleeping opportunities this weekend.
Despite my fatigue and job bitterness, however, I am ready to make 2011 the Year of the Blacktress (I’ve got the Chinese government on line 1, hoping it’s not too late to make the change). I started off NYE with a piece on The Hairpin, which is the beginning of my crossover success (leave a comment to help kickstart the blacktress whisper campaign!). The article put me in touch with another strong black woman who has a Jewboo, and now we’re internet besties.
I found a $100 bill on the ground in the early hours of 2011, and then kicked off the second day of the new year with a meeting with three ladies to start writing a sketch show! They are young, gifted, and white, and I think we’ve really got the start of something good. We all have assignments for the week, we’re meeting on the regular, and we’re ready to kick ass and take names. Tonight is the first of four on-camera commercial acting classes, where I hope to learn how to land a national ad campaign and never have to work in this craphole again! I'm kinda nervous--I haven't been around actor-y actors in a while, and hope I’m not the only one without a BFA. I'm also imagining the two teachers as aged, gravelly voiced, take-no-prisoners Hollywood types, who gesture with their cigarettes, tapping ash on you when you fail. They’ll say things like, "You're gayer than Rock Hudson on a telephone! Now sell me that face cream and MAKE ME WANT IT!!!”
I’ve got my hair did, contacts ready, and having been practicing my soothing, news-anchor voice while saying things like, “side effects may include constipation, explosive diarrhea, low self-esteem, and dry mouth.” We’ll see how it goes—I’ll definitely give you an update.
