2011: The Year to Keep on Steppin'!

Hey y'all.

I feel like I haven't blogged in ages, when it's really been a couple days. That could be because the sinus pain and dizziness has made time stand still (yes, even as the room is spinning). Or it could be because I'm cramming mad stuff into each day, making it so that, by the time I got to my desk this morning I had already shoveled snow, paid my electric bill, and called my grandmother. G-unit was in top form, and she gave me a new phrase I will have to use. When I told her that I was shoveling the snow, she asked me why I didn't pay the neighbor boy to do it for me. When I said I could manage, she replied, "Oh, I know you can, but you got to be acting. You can't get all sweaty and hunched over. You need to pay someone to do it and keep on steppin!"

Okay, maybe it's not particularly funny because you can't hear her 94-year-old Mississippi southern accent, but trust me--it was brillz. So great, in fact, that I am making it my new philosophy. As 2009 was The Year of the Hot Ass Mess, and 2010 was the year I chose to save the drama for Obama, 2011 is the year I will keep on steppin'!

"Um, what does 'keep on steppin' mean, Blacktress? Is your grandmother really into the movie You Got Served?"

No, people! G-unit doesn't want me to join a step team or stomp the yard. When she says "keep on steppin'" she basically means "do you." You've gotta get the basics done, and then handle your business--in my case, that's writing and blackting.

I think I'm getting there, even though it's causing me to burn the candle at both ends. I had an interview for another job on Monday, and I think I'm highly qualified and have everything they're looking for. They also said they welcome people with "outside interests," and the interviewer referenced going on auditions and flexibility more than once. Although I haven't heard back yet, I'm hoping that they're just playing it cool, and I'll get a follow-up soon.

So, despite the random illness--and the inability to shake the sensation of swallowing, like, egg yolks or something gross--I'm doing well. Especially because last night I had commercial class number 2, and guys, I DIDN'T SUCK!!
I was, dare I say it, pretty darn good!

I went into the class with high energy, and vowed to get out of my own way (the blacktress's mind is like a bad neighborhood--you don't want to go there alone). I wore my glasses and comfortable (yet slimming!) black jeans. We were given a page with four pieces of copy, and almost all were comedic, and they made sense to me right away. I was excited, and instantly knew how to play with it. I went up second, and read a spot for Doritos. We were asked to improvise and play a character. The first take I did a shy, nervous, awkward girl, and it went well. Then, the two teachers went to give me direction at the same time, then fought over what kind of character I should play next.

“You totally look like you could kick my ass,” one of them said. (She totally reminds me on a real housewife of New Jersey.) “Just for fun, play a gym teacher.”

“Really? You want me to go all out?” She nodded.

So I did. I imagined Sue Sylvester, but without the snark and hatefulness. I introduced myself as Pat, and even improvised the copy a bit, so that it ended on: “Like any normal person, I ate the whole bag, I enjoyed it and then I dropped and gave myself 20.

I got a huge laugh; it killed! I felt great from then on. Don't worry; it wasn't like it was smooth sailing from then on—but I didn’t feel like I didn’t deserve to be there, you know? For instance, I was able to laugh at myself and not freak out when I had to play ‘Georgina, a cousin from Italy,’ and the other actor I was filming with flubbed the intro line ("this is my cousin georgina, from italy. word has it she loves...") and said “word has it, she’s from Italy”.

My response: I’m from the African part.

I talked to the agents after class, had them critique my headshots (alas, I’ll need to pay for new ones, since the current ones “don’t pop.”), and even made friends with a WHactress. I learned that comedy commercials might be my thing, and being an improviser actually gave me a leg up over the Meisner-trained, NYU and Yale School of Drama M.F.A. kids.

I will admit that I lost some of my steam an hour into it when I left to use the bathroom and hit myself in the face with the heavy glass door, leading me to spend the rest of class concerned that my brow bone and nose were swelling (you can take the blacktress away from the crazy, but you can't take the awkwardness out of the blacktress).

But even with my potential facial fractures and fears of looking like a hot mess, I got up and read the other sides. I was, as G-unit would say, able to keep on steppin’! Holla!

THERE WILL BE A BLACKTRESS IN YOUR HOME

So, as you all know, yesterday, I did my first taping for television. What fun!!
I was interviewed by a wonderful, hilarious gay man, who happily let me rant about Celebrity bodies. As I talked, he jotted down notes and smiled encouragingly, much like a mother at her shyest child's recital. (He explained he couldn't laugh out loud because his voice wasn't supposed to be heard on the taping.)

Because I was told to wear "no white, no stripes, no logos, no busy patterns, and no green, because you'll be in front of a green screen," I rolled up in one of my finest blue dresses--you know, with just enough cleave to show I'm a lady in the street, but a freak in the bed. Even though the outfit looked great, the fabric was apparently difficult for the sound guy, who kept coming up to adjust the clip-on mic because he could hear rustling.

Quite frankly, I think he was just using it as an excuse to touch me in the boob area. He had a soul patch, and his name was Mike, and he spoke in an unnecessarily sexy voice, all smoky and low and full of deadpan. I enjoyed messing with him every time he came over to press the mic and come up with new ways to make sure it stayed put. "Are you trying to give me a mammogram, Mike? You're obvi checking for lumps."
He was so not having the blacktress' jest. I think it's cause I was the last interview of the day and they were getting sleepy.

We went through the list he'd gave me, and I had jotted down jokes, and he let me refer to them on set, which was cool. However, it really was the random off-the-cuff stuff that they liked best, such as when I referred to Matthew McConaughey as "a kind of sexy rotisserie chicken. He's always juicy and glistening and in motion, the breasts are highlighted, he's looking succulent."

They also appreciated when I totally went off on a tangent unrelated to beach bodies and explained my theory that Spencer Pratt looks like a Furby.




Srsly, do you see it??? They are both freaking me out!!!!

I left feeling good, with the producer and the makeup artist telling me I was great, and the producer saying--and I QUOTE--"I hope we can get you to do some more of this." I won't know what bits they end up using until it airs, and I won't even know the air date until it's edited, but it's scheduled for June.

Even though some things are up in the air, one thing is for certain: Even if it's just for 12 seconds, I AM GOING TO BE ON YOUR TV.

The Blacktress Goes Global--Fingers Crossed!!!

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