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www.toactors.com/welcometola

Please continue to follow us there. Thank you!

Much love.

-Jordan.

This is what I hear from my kitchen window while making a quesadilla getting ready for work one afternoon. Who is this singing? A seven-year-old girl? Your deranged grandma? No, no. It’s Jordan and I’s sixty-something Jewish screenwriter neighbor. He likes to wear trench coats and wide-brimmed hats, and, well, sing. The Brady Bunch theme.

We also think he has Turret’s. Like actually. He likes to yell at someone on the phone every other day to someone I can only imagine looks just like him, and who is yelling in the same manner back: “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?? YOU ARE SUCH A MORON!! HOW LONG DO YOU THINK I’VE BEEN PLANNING ON THIS???!!!”

and then-suddenly-his manner will switch:

“Ohhh you’ve joined facebook?? Well now everyone will get to see my gorgeous face!”

He also receives these mysterious packages everyday at his doorstep. Movie scripts? Angry political manifestos?

Oh, one of my favorites was when he started cussing off our other neighbor’s dog: “AHHH THAT FUCKING DOG!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THAT FUCKING DOG!! EVERYDAY!! EVERYDAY THAT FUCKING DOG!!”

(Seriously, I hate this dog. I never thought I’d say that-I love animals, I used to work for an animal shelter, I cry when I see those stupid ‘abused animals’ commercials with Sarah McLaughlan or whatever. But I hate this animal. It’s this small fluffy white thing with a pink bow-aka-the most stereotypical bitchy dog ever, that has the most screeeeching bark I’ve ever heard  )

But please remember that the person yelling this is a chubby, angry Woody Allen.

Oh, but my FAVORITE experience Jordan and I have had with Woody is the “Coo-Coo-Clock Experience”:

Early one morning, I wake up to go to work, when I hear a distant, “coo-coo! coo-coo!” Am I dreaming? Does someone just have a coo-coo clock? I want one! About an hour later, I still hear it. Ok, turn the damn clock off!

THEN about a week later, I’m still awake around 3am for whatever reason, when I hear it again: “coo-coo! coo-coo!” Why is the clock going off now?? Shut up! Shut up!

I now had been hearing the coo-coo for a couple of months and finally thought to bring it up to Jordan, who replies,

“Oh my god, I thought that was you!”

“Me?? Why would you think it was me??”

“I thought you were singing or warming up or something!”

“I think I should be insulted…it’s not far from some sort of truth…but uhh no it’s Woody next door, I’m sure. He has some sort of coo-coo clock.”

“No but I’ve heard it vary, it’s not the same “coo-coo” every time.”

“What?? What are you saying?”

“I think he’s making the “coo-coo” sound. It sounds like a person making the “coo-coo” sound.”

“Oh my lord. I just…should we be surprised? Who does that? Why is that a thing??”

YES. He is the coo-coo clock. We’ve heard it since. And it goes on for HOURS.

I think this dude’s neurosis can give THE Woody Allen a run for his money.

-Rose

can a plumber catch aids from drawn pipe?

Someone found our blog by googling this. I don’t have an answer for you my mysterious HIV anxious plumber. I would say, if you have an open flesh wound on your hand and HIV positive blood is gushing out of the pipe on to your hand… you may just get AIDs. I can tell you that.

This has nothing to do with anything related to our site. It needed to be shared, though.

I did get my first legitimate commercial audition yesterday, though. That’s exciting and has something to do with this blog.

A slightly sad note:

I saw a casting notice noting that they changed casting directors. They’re having people resubmit to audition tomorrow.. which I can’t do. But… I was happy to celebrate that little ‘first’ in my acting career.

Here’s to plenty more of those.

- Jordan.

….

This is our shower.. not just after the maintenance guy tried to fix it the first time.. second time.. or after the professional plumbers (#1 and #2) tried to fix it. This is our shower at this very moment in time. You’d think one of those four men would have at least thrown away the Subway to-go-cup.

Our shower has been broken all week. We’ve struggled with this shower in the past. It all started with the shower head only releasing water from three holes and dammit it is ending with this plumbing issue. We’ve tried to fix the drain in the past as well. We had a guy come to fix it last week. Rose took a shower shortly after and almost flooded our bathroom.

It’s been a great week. The professional plumber that came in had to call in for reinforcement. They said the maintenance crew did a terrible job and the pipe is too rusted to fix. They would have to break into the wall to replace the pipe. They saw my face and cautiously backed out of my apartment.

I ran into the apartment manager this morning. She said the maintenance crew can do the rest of the work. Considering how much praise I’ve heard about the maintenance workers (from my fix-it-scene partner, the gas company, and the plumbers) I’m a little concerned.

I’m not just concerned.. my Jew fro is concerned.. and angry.. and frizzy.

- Jordan

She was replaced because she was not off book and performance ready for the TABLE READ. She realized there was something wrong when the children were off book. Not fun.

Take note: Be ready. Be prepared. End of story.

- Jordan.

This is Los Angeles. There’s a quark to this town that will forever keep its residents amused. I’d just like to touch on that. I did extra work yesterday.. in Thousand Oaks.. at 5am. I am an intelligent person.

I woke up at 2:30am, washed my hair, left at 3:30am, and arrived at 4am.. a good half hour sooner than I expected. Needless to say I was too tired to handle the idea of hanging out with extras all day. It’s not that all extras are idiots. It’s that a good fraction of them seem to be underdeveloped children trapped in adult bodies.

That’s harsh. Incredible truthful.. but harsh.

My outlook on this may be muddled by the fact I was not awake enough to handle 30-somethings indicating they were tripping on acid and bragging about how much the camera loves them. I was awake and running around with these people before the crack of dawn and with absolutely no caffeine in my system. That’s a good reason to be judgmental.. right?

No.. ok. That’s not a good reason. I’m a terrible person. I don’t know if I can take it back, though.

- Jordan.

We’ve been taking this little guy all over the world this week. Let me just say:

If there’s one thing in this world that bonds people… it’s puppies.

I’ve made so many friends this week. A few have been in the industry or going into it.

This is the secret to networking.

- Jordan.

I was prepared for a few hours of time lost in a waiting room. I stole my boyfriend’s copy of Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States. Mid way through an explanation of the horrific deeds of Columbus I was called into see a doctor. He took a quick look at me and said,

Well I don’t think it’s ring worm. You would have a serious immune deficiency to get ring worm all over your body like that. It’s another fungus: Pityriasis Rosea. It usually goes away by itself, but I can give you a steroid cream to speed the recovery up…. Also, we need to do a blood test for patients with this fungus. I’m not saying you have this particular.. uhm.. well, we need to test you for Syphilis.

COOL.

So, I was sent down to the lab to get tested for Syphilis. I walked into a sparsely populated waiting room and went directly to the front desk. I was glared at, “You need to grab a number”.

Ok.. I walked across the room and grabbed a number.

“Is it 42?”

“Yes,” I reply cautiously.

“Ok give me your paperwork.”

I walked back to him with my seemingly pointless number and embarrassing paperwork declaring I was being tested for Syphilis. He signed me in and I shamefully sat down. I began to read more about the multiple cases of genocide and deception brought to the Native American population. By the time my number was called I was in a daze.

I sat on a plush blue stool and waited for someone to draw my blood. A man in his late thirties came over to me. He joked around about not being able to find a large pair of gloves. I thought he was normal. After he found a pair of gloves he asked, “You look familiar. Do I know you? Have I seen you before?“

“No.. I don’t believe so.”

“Do you go out a lot? Clubs… bars around here?“

“I’m kind of a grandma… Plus I don’t have money to go out.”

“Well what about your boyfriend?“

“He’s in the same situation as me.”

“Ah man. Well do you love him or are you in love with him?“

“Uhm.. sorry? Yeah… We’ve said we’re in love with each other…”

“If you’re in love with him it means you would get married tomorrow.”

Forced chuckles escaped my mouth, “Well I’m only twenty-one”.

“Hey you got to be open. My parents got married at 16/18. You got to be open. And all I’m saying is.. See what I say to girls is: You got to get rid of these loser guys. Why waste your time around with someone who is not going to be able to give you what you need?“

I attempted to summon up as much laughter as humanly possible. At this point he was preparing his needle. He must have been joking around… My mind had no clue. It was still caught between reality and the bloodshed of Indians in the 15th century.

See I’m a retired police officer. Now, you’re wondering why I retired so early. I’m a young guy. Got shot on the job. I had to retire early. So now I’m the senior in charge of this lab. I’m only drawing blood because we’re short staffed. I’m a respectable, smart, financially set guy. You know I always say to girls, why go out with these losers when you can be with someone who is already ahead of you financially and can help you get there too.

He stuck the needle into my barely visible vein sometime in between boasting about himself and suggesting I leave my boyfriend for him. I was still was convincing myself he was joking around. It wasn’t until he took that arbitrary number slip of mine and wrote his phone number on it that I realized this fool was serious. To top it all off, our conversation ended with, “It’s always good just to have an ‘intelligent conversation’ with a man. I’ll  be at the W in Hollywood tonight. Give me a call“.

I hope he didn’t realize what my test was for until after I left.

I only blocked out two numbers.. If you can guess what they are, feel free to prank call him and say you’re me. Say you’ll meet him at the W and ask if he’s ok if the test turned out positive for Syphilis.

- Jordan.

As a member of the “caucasian” club, I’m kind of offended….

CERTIFIED MALE
appearing to be 18-22 years old. Open to any race or ethnicity.

PLEASE DO NOT SUBMIT CAUCASIAN. Awkward looking.

PATIENT MALE
appearing to be 18-22 years old. Open to any race or ethnicity.

PLEASE DO NOT SUBMIT CAUCASIAN. Awkward looking.

CERTIFIED FEMALE
appearing to be 18-22 years old. Open to any race or ethnicity.

PLEASE DO NOT SUBMIT CAUCASIAN. Awkward looking.

PATIENT FEMALE
38-55 years old. Open to any race or ethnicity.

PLEASE DO NOT SUBMIT CAUCASIAN. Awkward looking.

-Rose. who is caucasian. and will never get aids. because i’m caucasian…ya…
]]> http://toactors.wordpress.com/2010/02/27/best-description-on-actors-access-take-2/feed/ 0 rosetoactors http://toactors.wordpress.com/2010/02/26/a-venting/ http://toactors.wordpress.com/2010/02/26/a-venting/#comments Sat, 27 Feb 2010 01:23:45 +0000 rosetoactors http://toactors.wordpress.com/?p=246 Continue reading →]]> I’ve been really restless lately. I believe it stems from acting class and finally, FINALLY, acting again, and being around some great new people and actors. So suddenly my simple job, which a monkey can do, has suddenly taken a turn these past two weeks.

I just want to audition. And act. And be around intelligent people who don’t assume I’m an idiot. Ya.

If there’s anything I’ll get defensive about, and will fight back on, no matter who you are, or how much of a bitch I’ll be perceived to be-it would involve the following subjects: gay rights, animal rights, and the misconception that ALL actors are stupid.

I am shaking just thinking about that, actually.

So what was the catalyst to this venting? At work yesterday this really sweet coworker and I were chatting (this is where I got in trouble, as well, by my manager) about our lives. He was asking me general questions, “Where you from?…What movies do you like?” etc. etc. So then comes the inevitable weird conversation when I reply, “I’m an actor.”

The conversation will then take a turn.

“Ooo cool. So have you, like, done anything?”

“No not really yet. I mean I have a degree in Theatre and have done mostly theatre-”-oh, that’s it?”

“Well I’ve been performing my whole life, so, uh ya and I grew up in LA, so I’m not some fresh off the boat person…so I’m just trying to build up my film resume right now.”

“Oh wait so you got your degree in theatre?”

“Ya. It’s important to have a good education if you want to be an actor.”

“Oh really??”

“Um ya. I also studied a lot of writing and history. I love history. Oh and philosophy. If I had minored in anything I would have done some combination of those.”

“Oh ya I didn’t know know you had to be smart to be an actor.”

“YES. Yes you do. You have to have a brain. A damn good one. Well-if you want to be a GOOD actor.”

“Oh haha ya I guess.”

“Ya there’s a big misconception with that thought process. You think Meryl Streep is an idiot? Clint Eastwood. What a fucker. Can’t even count to ten.”

“Oh ya ok. Well good luck with that business.”

“Ya thanks. It’s hard but it’s the one thing I’m passionate about…soo…”

And then shit is just awkward. And I’m on the verge of tears.

And I just hate it because I’m not a bitch. I’m a really genuinely nice person who is genuinely interested in other people. And I know sometimes it’s not people’s faults for why they think things…but….SHIT. It makes me feel two inches tall. It makes me feel like every trying time in my life has been for nothing. And I know they don’t know that and it’s nothing against them. But I can’t help getting offended. And I guess I do think it’s a little naive.

Just imagine when the ONE thing you care about most is perceived as, simply, DUMB. A fucking squirrel could do it.

As Howard says, “A guy doesn’t show up at a hospital and say, ‘I’m a surgeon! Give me the scalpel!’ with out even having gone to med school.”

That’s what a lot of people think of acting. You have to be trained. You have to be a certain type of person to deal with the industry and be able to deal with yourself.

Oh god…

Anyway…that’s it. I’m done. This has just been happening a lot. I’m just sick of trying to prove my intelligence to people. I need a drink…

-Rose