July 18, 2008
Catching Up
I keep feeling like I'm trying to catch up.
On so much.
Not in the hectic, running, omigod I'm crazy kind of way. Just in that, "Wow! There is a LOT going on and I keep NOT blogging about it," kind of way. I blame Twitter.
Today is the day I officially dove into production on the third edition of Self-Management for Actors. I have six weeks to work on it, then it's off to the printer just after Labor Day in order to hit stores and Amazon.com in October (on schedule. Well... on NEW schedule. Already blew the first deadline, as y'all may recall). Bless my Proofer Patrol!
I'm really excited about this new edition and all of the fabulous new essays contributed from working actors, demo reel editors, managers, agents, fellow casting directors, directors, and producers. It's gonna be awesome. That whole new section on "Advanced SMFA" is going to rock. Just have to get the dang thing written! ;) Okay, so I'm on it.
Also changing my daily schedule quite a bit by adding so much Wii Fit to the day. It's wonderful. I love it. I'm so sore in so many great places and I just feel amazing. I'll share "results" in a week or so, but I can already tell this is a great idea. ;) I'm not saying midnight visits to the gym don't work, but I'm a heck of a lot more motivated to sweat with these challenges than with the silly machines at the gym.
Gonna play with the July showcasers this weekend and next. I love this group! They're so warm and passionate and wonderful. :) All showcase alumni are welcome, but both weekends' events are probably going to be most heavily populated by the most recent showcasers. That's always the way. ;)
I'll be hosting an event for the SAG Foundation with Minnie Driver and Jeremy Renner next week. That should be fun. Also taking meetings with some "corporate future planner type people" next week regarding the next couple of years in the Cricket Feet, Inc., gameplan. Probably not going to cast something I thought I would like to cast (because I'd simply rather not. Weird), and I'm happy for the time to devote to the book.
No spa vacation next week as planned. Used half the spa money for the Wii Fit/Wii bundle and general life stuff. (No. Not a new iPhone. Nancy is doing just fine, thank you).
I'm sleepy.
This has been a boring blog entry. It's summertime. What can I say?
Posted by bonnie at 7:25 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 22, 2008
Welcome to my world.
Occasionally (okay, I'll be honest: FREQUENTLY) Keith has to stop me from writing any given week's column about the ridiculousity that is my collective inbox.
Y'see, I cast these cool indie films. And, while I get that most casting directors do the "very inaccessible" thing, it's because I *also* happen to produce showcases and write the aforementioned columns, plus the books, and do the speaking engagements that I pretty much cannot be inaccessible. My *other* jobs rely on knowing what's going on with actors, being reachable, being *gulp* willing to read such stuffs.
So, tonight, while enjoying a glass of wine and wondering if I did the world a disservice by cleaning up the atrocious spelling, grammar, and punctuation errors in this week's column's email, I toodled upon this post, by a fella whose book is being cast as a movie these days (Go, Joseph Middleton, with your bad-ass self! And congrats to the writer!), and my eyes glazed over, much in the way they do DAILY at several given points.
And then I realized, it wouldn't matter if I were to write a column about this sort of email. I'll continue to get dozens of them a day. DOZENS. Among the hundreds of emails I get per day--many of which are just fine and dandy, and some of which I actually find time to answer--there are these emails that make me wonder why I don't have unlisted contact information.
In fact, I spoke with a manager today who was pitching three actors on one of the films I'm casting and she said, "I think I called your cell first."
When I told her, "I don't have a cell," she was SHOCKED.
"I have an iPhone, but I don't have the phone set up. I use it for email," I told her.
"What?!?" she asked. "What if someone needs you?!?"
"Someone always needs me," I replied. "And I check email hourly, so if they really need me--and I believe them--I'll call them back after I see their email about the emergency. But the problem is, everyone thinks their BS is an emergency. And have you seen how many projects I'm working on? Do you realize how many producers, directors, writers, agents, managers, publicists, and actors are certain that they have an emergency situation happening? Believe me. The ONLY way I get *any* down time--and I don't get a lot--is because I have no cell phone. The number you called was my husband's. Because 70% of the time, I'm with him. So if someone is SURE they need me, they have to weather the Keith to get to me. And that's about as good as my having no cell phone at all, frankly."
She laughed like crazy.
But, whether I had a cell phone or made my home phone unlisted or whatever, what would it matter? It's all gonna keep comin', no matter what I try to do to stop it.
So, when I want to write a column about the actors who call me, email me, fax me, FedEx me, anything me to try and find out "how to submit on my projects" when I FLIPPIN' PUT THE DAMN THINGS OUT ON ACTORS ACCESS, WHERE EVERYONE ON THE PLANET CAN SUBMIT, DUDE, I guess it's nice to have someone in my life who reminds me that THAT is not a column. It's a rant. It's, at best, a blog post.
Because--just like the idiot who takes up two parking spaces out in front of my house, when he could just as easily pull up two feet to allow another car to park behind him--there will always be people who JUST DON'T GET IT. And they wouldn't think you were giving THEM a tip, no matter how much you made it all about them, anyway.
*sigh*
(For what it's worth, I got about three sentences farther in to the post than Tucker Max did. I'm patient like that.)
Posted by bonnie at 11:21 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
January 18, 2008
Is It True?
Do we set out on a path for "who we are" in high school and determine our own fate when we're too young to even decide on a haircolor or an elective or a boyfriend and then that's just who we are?
I ask this both because this is the theme of one of the films I'm currently casting and because I recently reconnected with someone who totally remembered me from high school (who I, sadly, have to admit, I don't *really* remember, although she totally looks familiar to me) and she said, "I always knew you'd make it in Hollywood. But I really thought you'd be an actor."
And I remember an encounter with my high school best friend (after our ten-year reunion) in which he said every time he sees Julia Roberts on screen, he screams because he knows I could do it better if I would just get my shit together and do it.
(It's good that he said this, as it caused me to drop out of grad school and move to LA to give acting one more shot, at which point I became very sure acting was not my dream anymore, but dangit, wouldn't you know I'd grow up to become a writer and casting director of all things. Oh, and be really happy with all that.)
But my point in posting this is that I'm remembering this guy from high school. His name is Steve. In our senior yearbook (no, Alex, I'm not telling "that story" yet. Heh heh) he listed, in the "clubs and activities" section, one thing.
"420."
And at our ten-year reunion, in that little, "What have you been doing since graduation?" booklet (the one in which I wrote about traveling the world, going to grad school, working in the recording industry in Hollywood and in college radio in Athens, and having the Barbra-Streisand-turned-Oprah-Winfrey pipe dream), Steve wrote one thing.
"420."
So, we're coming up on our 20-year reunion. (And I say "we" knowing full well that I won't be going anywhere near Fulton County or North Springs High School in 2008 without having dropped a good 50 pounds and having scored a much better StarMeter ranking.)
Just wondering. What do you think Steve will say in his update this time around?
Are we THAT close to "who we will always be" in high school?
Posted by bonnie at 11:42 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack
January 10, 2008
Random
So I'm watching the episode of Seinfeld in which James Spader comes 'round and gets all "step nine" on everyone, apologizing for the wrongs, as he works his 12-step program. And I'm reminded of a time a couple of years ago when someone (once) very close to me came 'round and got all "step nine" with me, apologizing for all sorts of things that I just thought were parts of our fractured relationship. Turns out he was an addict and I had no idea to what degree.
That was really meaningful. Still is. I didn't need an apology. I thought we had a pretty dang good relationship for the kids that we were. But it's nice to know the power of, "I know that I hurt you. And for that, I am sorry."
Next up... I joined the Twitter. Not sure I'm loving the straight-to-the-BonBlogs updates just yet, as a few of those in a row and my pretty, graphics-included blog posts are bumped off the main page, making the BonBlogs' landing pad not look so lovely. But does anyone visit the BonBlogs "proper" anymore? Is this all just read via RSS nowadays? So the Twittering is welcome?
Here's a cute Twitter-related graphic I found. Just goes to show that I'm generally a year or two behind everyone, on these tech trends. That makes me old, right? Remember when I used to be an early adopter? Damn late-30s.
Have I mentioned that I am totally overwhelmed and humbled by the resumés we've received from AMAZING directors for the 2008 Cricket Feet Showcase season? I mean, WOW.
I am feeling ridiculously self-righteous over how many "Common Errors in English Usage" in the page-a-day calendar I treated myself to for Christmas I "win" on. It's a movie premiere, idjits! Not a premier. The "t" in often is not pronounced. A character cannot be one-dimensional. Oh, lordy, this is going to be a fun year! (Until I hit that run of a few pages in which I'm proven wrong about something grammatical. That'll suck. Heh.)
I am currently wearing a shirt that will be thrown away the next time I take it off. I bought it in 1990 when I worked at the GAP and sold all of those cool T-shirts to Michael Stipe before the MTV VMAs in which he took one off for each trip to the mic to pick up an award. It will make me sad to lose this shirt. But c'mon... an 18-year-old shirt? Really?
I am officially a crotchety old woman. I actually emailed the local news channel to tell them their lady news anchor needs to take off the jangly, bangly bracelets she's wearing while flailing her arms about, delivering the news. Sorry, kids, that's Microphone 101. But the fact that I have now emailed this exact comment to two different local news channels within three weeks is... well... disturbing. I think I'm turning into--not my mother--my grandmother. She once called up the local Toyota dealership because their mascot dog was sitting on the hood of a car and said, "I wouldn't buy one of your cars with that mangy ol' dog's clawmarks all over the paintjob."
Next week, that dog (Mr. Toyota) was sitting on a MAT on the hood of that car.
Go, Cleo.
That is all.
Posted by bonnie at 11:22 PM | Comments (11) | TrackBack
November 17, 2007
A Story I've Never Told
No... this isn't the "how I almost didn't graduate from high school" story. That's comin'. Not today. ;)
This is the "why Con Air is one of my favorite movies" story.
I know I know... WTF, right? I mean, it's Con Air. It starred Nicholas Cage doing the worst southern accent ever and--of course--the future Mr. Bonnie Gillespie, AKA John Cusack, as a sandal-wearing federal marshal. And, well, it was just BAD, as movies go.
Okay, I grant you all of that. It was a total dick flick. BUT... I happened to go see this movie at the dollar cinema on Alps in Athens after having had, well, the most non-boy day ever.
See, I have a cousin who is a midwife. (By the way, if I should ever choose to have a child, the midwife thing is about the coolest thing EVER. And I now know this for a fact.) And for a few years between Tracy's life in the ATL and Tracy's life in Hawaii, there was Tracy's life in Athens. And that was some of my favorite time, as a grad student at UGA.
(PS--Go, DAWGS!)
Anyway, Tracy used to come home from work and talk about the various issues she faced as a midwife at county. The phrase: "It was an exploding vagina day" rings in my memory. Egad!
But, I learned a lot, listening to my health-care-giver family member. A friend I trusted (and continue to trust). Someone who is adjacent to coochies every day. I mean, damn. Right?
Okay, so something I had never experienced, being "an only child" (who wasn't really an only child, but who was born a full 16 and 18 years, respectively, after her *planned* male siblings), was the whole "sister having a baby" thing. I mean, sure, each of my sisters-in-law had babies, but I wasn't invited in for that show (and why would I be, not even being old enough to babysit said kids, right?).
So, when my cousin Tracy invited me to shadow her for a day's work at Athens Regional Medical Center, I figured, "What the Hell!"
I put on scrubs. I signed in. I waited for hours and hours and hours. And nothing happened. Nothing.
Tracy assured me that there would be babies. There would be emergencies. But it was like life... you couldn't really predict when and what.
So, I hung out. Got to know the other midwives (girly-boys and girls). Began to understand these people who spent years of schooling--at great expense--only to basically give their time away at county and go home at the end of the day, needing hooch and good friends like me on the porch (another-another story to come later) to toast them for their thankless life-saving or--at bare minimum--coochie-healing.
And then, after ten hours of hanging out (and as a gal who don' sleep much, that's never an issue), I was called to emergency--thrice--and there were three "may not make it" babies delivered in 50 minutes. And I was there for all of 'em. One didn't make it. One made it just fine. Another made it with special help. And I learned something from all of it.
There was the 17-year-old with her boyfriend and his family. Balloons. A party.
There was the Hindi woman who would only allow me to be there because I was "a female teacher" and that was sacred to her.
There was the 40-something woman whose 13th child would be born prematurely. And dead.
I got to see an episiotomy. An epidural. A natural childbirth.
I got to experience all of the sounds and smells of this world. And I still own the scrubs I wore.
But the point of this blog post is this: I left the hospital, after having experienced more estrogen in 50 minutes than I've probably felt course through me before or since, and felt the need to reboot.
Not to have a drink.
Not to get laid.
Not to meet my posse at the Engine Room and throw darts 'til dawn.
I needed more testosterone than I had ever experienced.
And Con Air was showing at the dollar movie.
So, I paid my buck, sat there amongst the frat boys and their dutiful girlfriends, and--in my scrubs--watched Con Air and decided it was one of the best movies I had ever seen.
And tonight, I watch it rerunning on some local channel--even with the "bad words" edited out--and I love it exactly the same.
It reminds me that there is such a thing as hormonal balance in life. And isn't it weird that I still value that? I mean, aren't I knockin' around at the expiration date on my ability to have chillens?
Eh, it makes me ever-grateful that I married a man who has a son. Therefore, I have a stepson. And that kid loves me like crazy and I'm thrilled that that is true. Yeah, even Quinn wants me to be knocked up when he comes to live with us in a couple of years (a seed I'm sure his dad planted in him, but whatevz), but I'm just so very happy that I appreciate the reproduction that happens because it's s'posed'ta.
If it's gonna, it will.
And I'll get to any of mine when/if the time is right. Put the bunny back, the bad-southern-accented boy said. ;) Ah, the irony!
And that's the story of one of my favorite movies ever.
I know. Right?
Posted by bonnie at 4:30 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
October 10, 2007
My Mom's Tooth
I remember my brother being ridiculed by my mother for having stolen a car and getting in a head-on collision when he was a teenager, messing up the work those braces had done.
(When your parents are Depression-era, you're constantly reminded that it cost a hell of a lot to do things like fix your teeth.)
Sure, Mom was happy he lived through the crash (and Daddy was more mad about the car), but she was absolutely certain, from then on, that his "bad teeth" had everything to do with having wrecked his face.
My brother assured the family that genetics are a strong thing and that all he had was exactly his version of "Mom's tooth" that juts out and turns, just for fun. Of course, Mom was certain that it was the fault of teenage recklessness and that alone--as further evidenced by the fact that I had braces and, therefore, did NOT have that jutted out tooth. The end. Car wreck = messed up teeth. No car wreck = perfect teeth. Thank you, braces.
So, tonight I'm looking in the mirror and I see this tooth. It is my mother's tooth. Absolutely, positively, 100% my mother's tooth... right there on the right side of my mouth.
And I wore my braces and didn't total a car and even wore my retainer as directed by the orthodontist, well into my late teens.
But. I know this about my mother: If she were still alive right now, she would look at my mouth and say that I didn't treasure the gift that was the orthodontic experience she provided--as a single parent strapped for cash, grateful for the subsidized lunch program that allowed me to eat at least one full meal each day (even though it was usually a sloppy joe or fish sticks or overdone greenbeans with a slab of ham)--and that I clearly wasn't wearing my retainer for as many years as that damn thing would fit me.
And then my brother would enjoy being right.
I and then--and only then--I would say to my mom, "Y'know, you're right. If I had worn my retainer more, my teeth would still be straight."
That's what siblings are all about. Then, now, and forever.
Posted by bonnie at 12:05 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
September 28, 2007
Friend Shui (or "Why I Disabled Messaging at MySpace")
Okay, so I love The MySpace. Love it. I was very late to the party, but haven't ever regretted showing up for it.
Benefits have included nearly tripling readership of my weekly column, reconnecting with some of my longest-lost friends, landing on the radar of international media outlets, and being able to communicate directly with actors who are up for projects I'm casting without always having to go through their people.
But.
I already get hundreds of emails per day. Hundreds. They. Never. Stop.
And MySpace messaging has spiraled out of control for this chica. About 65% of the messages I receive are from actors looking for advice I've already spelled out--in great detail--at my column. And since it seems that few (very, very few) people actually consult my FAQ before reaching out, I am forced to either ignore the bulk of the messages or answer in the form of sending someone to read my FAQ or columns.
Think I'm being ungrateful for the love? Absolutely not! I am not at all having any kind of problem with the fact that people want to ask for my advice. It's the... other stuff... that gets me less excited to log in at my MySpace account.
Examples.
Hey Bon,
I know we've never met. I desperately need an agent. Please watch my reel and tell me to whom you'll be recommending me. This is urgent.Hi,
Can you look at the 200 proofs from my recent photo shoot and help me choose a headshot? I've read your series of articles on headshots and find the advice good but useless for my particular situation. I need your help one-on-one.Help me join SAG. You're my only hope!
Yo,
You haven't answered my messages. What the hell is wrong with you? You act all accessible but clearly it's all just an image you're trying to project. I've sent you five messages in two days and you haven't gotten back to me. You suck. I'm reporting you to the BBB as a fraud. Your book sucks.
All 100% true-story messages (but with better grammar and spelling, because I can't flippin' bring myself to recreate some of the more mind-numbingly bizarre elements of these messages).
Point is... 65% of the messages I get range from wholly inappropriate to flat-out presumptuous and rude.
So, I learned how to disable messaging for non-friends at MySpace. (As Brendan knows, this was a banner day for me. Cut way, way, WAY down on the volume of stuff. Awesome.)
But that's only taking care of the majority of the messages. There's still another bunch of stuff coming in that I'd rather have come through... well... anywhere else. Like, via email at my column, via comments at my MySpace page, via comments at the BonBlogs, or via email at any of the various accounts I have set up to deal with things like showcase-related correspondence, casting stuff, speaking engagements, or books I've written.
Dang, y'all, I'm OPEN. I'm WAY accessible. Especially when you consider the sheer volume of stuff coming my way.
(Someone recently asked why I don't do speaking engagements at such-and-such facility. I was stunned. I'm like, "Uh... is it not enough that I'm at SAG once a week most weeks? That I'm somewhere out there speaking to groups of actors all over town--usually at places where actors needn't spend a penny to be there--already? You just need me to be at this particular place because it's your favorite? Uh... no. Not looking to add places to the itinerary. Thanks.")
So, I guess this is like the same thing, but in terms of ones and zeroes. Friend Shui. Optimizing the accessibility. Working smarter. (We've covered this before.)
Thank you thank you thank you for your understanding.
And for those who want to turn this into anything other than what it is, well, I guess I just have to start getting okay with being misunderstood sometimes. It's certainly not going to get easier as we continue in this direction.
*sigh*
There's a reason I say: If I had known how popular going into casting would make me, I would've done it in high school. But getting used to this level of sought-outtedness in my 30s is okay too. ;) Thanks, y'all. LYMI!!
Posted by bonnie at 6:43 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
September 26, 2007
Oh, how I love Thursday!
I know, I know... Thursday isn't here yet... but I already love it. Why?
Well, for one, it's the first day in a dozen or so in which I don't HAVE TO leave the house. Woo! Yay! Yippee!!
AND! As much as I love my rockstar intern Julie, she will not be helping out tomorrow, and that means I also have a totally bra-free day!!!!!!!!
Yay, Thursday! Yay!
(I know. Sometimes it is the little things. No I'm not saying my boobs are little. Dear gawd no. You get my point.)
Posted by bonnie at 11:12 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
September 25, 2007
I Don't Like:
Bad dreams.
The new DirecTV TiVo craptastic device.
People with no sense of personal boundaries.
I Do Like:
Compliments from people I respect and admire.
The contents of my iPod.
Making up words.
The end.
Oh... wait... and I am endlessly amused by the house on the 101. Endlessly.
NOW the end.
Posted by bonnie at 11:24 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
September 21, 2007
Rain Is Here
They've been talking about rain coming for days now. And it is here. Yay!
Funny thing about having cats and living in a place where it never rains. They aren't like my kick-ass kitty from back in Georgia was (that'd be Muffy, who lived to be 18, y'all--my longest long-term relationship, for damn sure). He would deal with the thunderstorms, flood warnings, even tornado watch alerts. Tough cookie. He was like, "Oh, yeah. That's that stuff. Pff."
These kitties... these, princess-delicate California kitties (even though two of 'em *did* live in the North Georgia Mountains for a year or so before moving here)... well, they're clinging to me like we're enduring "the end of days." They don't understand why the sky is different. The sounds are different. The smells are different.
So cute, these princesses.
To celebrate the end of this crazy week, I shall pour myself a lovely pomegranate martini. Thank you to my lovely casting helper from a couple of weeks ago, Andrea, who brought me this Pama Liqueur when she learned I couldn't have gluten (I think she was originally planning on pastries of some sort).
Hee! Congrats, Keith, on your Clint Eastwood audition. That's a damn good day. Oh... and GO DAWGS! That is all. Happy weekend, everyone! XO
Posted by bonnie at 5:49 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
September 20, 2007
Blogging... I just ain't in the mood.
I keep thinking I'll get it up for a blog post but I've seriously got a whole lotta nuthin' to say right now.
What a useless blog post, huh?
Eh.
All is well. Just not in a bloggy place.
Oh, and why is it that the little MySpace face for "cold" looks so sad? Who are you to tell me that I'm sad about being cold? I like being cold. It's much better than being hot. Beach living rules and I love the "need an extra blanket" nights in September. I'm not sad.
PS--I love "premiere week" (weeks?) on TV. Goodness, this is fun!
PPS--New (excellent) book for gym reading is already a third finished in one session. Dangit. I really need to read slower.
Posted by bonnie at 9:43 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
September 4, 2007
Okay, so...
No news. Sorry.
However, I did grab some balls and call Mr. Superagent at 6:45pm (after having spent a good part of the day on the phone with a good many other superagent types--closing deals on The Kitty Landers Show pilot--which got me thinking, "Why am I so weirded out about this? I talk to these cats ALL the time. Call him. Yes, again. Just do it," right as an email from MCJ--HBTY, MCJ--came in, making me sure it was a sign I needed to make the call).
Highlights of the conversation:
- I want to get everybody on board.
- You need a team to get behind you.
- Everyone has been out with the holiday and I'm out tomorrow so...
- I was very impressed with you at our meeting.
- You have great energy.
- You've got a great shop set up already.
- We need to take you to the Debbie Zane level.
- Call me Thursday after I've talked to the whole team.
So. There it is. Whatevz.
Continued thanks for all of the lovely vibes y'all continue to send.
It's hot.
- TiVo has overheated and shut down.
- Can no longer upload things via Fetch (and can't get new 'puter 'til October due to the cool new stuff Apple's announcing tomorrow--but I do love my Mighty Mouse. A lot).
- I love, love, LOVE our A/C. (It is at its best when one foot away from me and pointed right down my shirt.)
- My neighbor smokes the most funky, skunk-like weed I have ever smelled (not that I know a lot about that stuff, but this seriously smells like skunkbutt. His parents must be so proud).
- My future Mr. Superagent is a UCLA fan. We almost came to blows when I gloated about the UGA game on the phone just now. C'mon! It's not like he's a *shudder* Gator or something vile like that! I think we'll be able to work it out.
Woof!
Posted by bonnie at 7:43 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
August 25, 2007
Quickies
1. Balls of Fury is exactly the movie you expect it to be. The 14-year-old boy in me loved, loved, loved it. The guest of the Hong family in me really enjoyed how much camera time brilliant character actor James Hong got. The on-the-rise casting director was thrilled to be introduced to the film's director (Ben Garant) as, "a wonderful casting director and producer to watch."
(There will be more photos to come... including one in which James "approaches me" with a paddle. *tee hee*)
Anyway, it was a great honor to be their guest and spend the day at the red carpet thingy. Really fun. Brought home a pair of Balls of Fury tighty-whities for Keith. As it should be.
2. Still blushing from the Joseph Mailander review, I come across this. My NBF Kevin Charnas had this nice thing to say:
Bonnie Gillespie was adorable and hysterical. And I wanted to run up and hug her...and not in a pervie way. Although, if my peep accidentally rubbed up against her, it wouldn't have been a tragedy.
Heeeeeeeeee! Oh, how I LOVE these blogger friends I've made! Such *very* cool people (and not just because they adore ME, but c'mon, that's fun too)! Heeeeeeee!
3. Will spend most of Sunday writing Monday's column on the particular issues minority actors face (Thank goodness for the wonderful bounty of feedback last week's request begging yielded!) and scheduling actors' auditions for the November 2007 showcase.
4. My chest hurts. Sun poisoning is not cool.
5. If it's possible, I'm more excited about the November showcase than either of the other two, at this point (meaning, the pre-audition excitement is like WAY super-overwhelming right now, just based on who's coming in on this).
(Yeah, number five could've gone with number three, technically, but I'm tired and wanted five and couldn't come up with anything clever to say. Clearly. *yawn* I think I need some sleep. Yeah. I'll dream of ping-pong, I'm sure.)
Posted by bonnie at 11:32 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
August 9, 2007
Dear Middle-Aged Balding Entitled A-hole at El Cholo,
You don't know me.
If you're lucky, you'll never actually know me, because I will make your life hell. And it's not because I dislike you. It's because I find you to be just about the lowest form of being there is, and--sadly--because you're White and Gainfully Employed and living in the place that values your kind over all others--you're also valued by people who (if they really thought about it) would spit on you. Not because spitting is cool. But because you are the king of what is wrong with this place.
So, I have already had a big conversation with myself about what it means that I'm seeing this crap (because I believe that what we see is a reflection of our reality and that concept makes me sad because OMG, if this guy represents my reality I'm in big-ass trouble), but I figure my brain needed to entertain this foolishness and share it with y'all just to cleanse the palate for better things. Believe me, just about anything is gonna be better.
So, we're at El Cholo, finally using a gift card Keith received from a lovely friend of ours for having done computer work (which he so rocks at) to have a proper date, which is well deserved. It's Thursday. It's a little packed. We've been at our patio table for an hour or so and when another table clears out, an elderly man and woman head over from the bar area to the patio table. IMPORTANT NOTE: There is no wait list for the patio. It's the honor system. Only if you want a table inside do you put your name on a list and get one of those cute little red-blinky vibrating "your table is ready" indicators.
As Ma and Pa Kettle amble over to the now-vacant table, MABEA (Middle-Aged Balding Entitled A-hole) rushes over--cute little red-blinky vibrating "your table is ready" indicator (NOT GOING OFF) in hand--screaming, "Hey! We were first! We've been waiting! That table is OURS! You get up!" His two other MAB (maybe/maybe not EA) friends swarm nearby, and the octogenarians, looking appalled at this jaggoffery, get up and move back into the bar area, figuring they must've done something wrong.
Of course, I want to run over and say, "You're not doing anything wrong! He's an asshole!" And then I realize, in a life more than twice the length of mine, they've surely seen many an asshole and know that's what they're seeing. I don't need to point that mess out. I should just continue enjoying my date.
But then...
Dinner is over for the MABEA and his MAB friends. Keith and I are still enjoying our date. Yeah... we hang out a long time. We drink. We talk. We flirt. We work. It's good.
Anyway, MABEA and his friends head over to the valet and MABEA sees a very lovely young lady returning to her beau at another patio table. He stops and watches her ass. Like SERIOUSLY takes in her ass as if it exists for him and him alone. Because that's not enough assholery here in front of the patioful of observers, he collects the fellow MAB with a cheesy '70s mustache (as opposed to the fat one) and tells him to act as if he's saying something to him. No, no... he's not saying anything. He's giving him an over-the-shoulder view of the juicy ass (which is no longer in clear view, as the lovely lady has sat down with her beau to continue their date). Mustache MAB is less amused by this than MABEA seems to be, who heads back to valet tugging on his nutsack while talking loudly about how much he would "hit that shit" if not for the (certainly, happy) wife he's got waiting back home for his sloppy, drunken, middle-aged balding entitled a-hole kisses.
*shudder*
Anyway. My point is, hello. Yes. I saw you. I let your vibe interrupt a good ten minutes of my date tonight. And you suck. You can expect a character based upon you in a future script coming your way soon. This will not be a compliment, despite the fact that you might want to take it that way.
You are a special kind of broken. And sadly, your credit rating is better than mine. There is something seriously wrong with that.
That is all.
Posted by bonnie at 10:51 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
July 6, 2007
fun stuff (a BB exclusive)
I'm on the Oxy campus (sitting b/w the fountain + gym steps--where Brandon used to show up to flirt w/ Lucinda Nicholson or to tutor D'shon Hardell), way early for my speaking gig this morning.
I am endlessly amused by the 90210 exteriors + entertained by hummingbirds dive-bombing one another.
Drive to Eagle Rock was insanely speedy.
Quinn + his dad are out w/ "Aunt Liz" and Adam. Man, I wish that kid didn't have to go so soon. We have the BEST time.
Reporting from the still-unnamed BlackBerry, I'm days-away-from-37-Bon. ;)
--
Bonnie Gillespie (via BlackBerry)
http://cricketfeet.com
http://more.showfax.com/columns/avoice
"If I had known how popular going into casting would make me, I would've done it in high school."
Posted by bonnie at 8:38 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
June 27, 2007
"Did you get what you wanted?"
My mother was a complicated woman. I mean, she was simple (like most Depression-era kids were), she saved everything, she always worried she was being abandoned or undervalued, and she was also really smart. And maybe that's where it got complicated.
It would've been so easy for her to have just been broken and country. But instead, she was also fiercely intelligent. And she did groundbreakingly cool stuff in the field of Esoteric Astrology. But being country, she was embarrassed when Oprah asked her to join John Gray and Iyanla Vanzant in the late '90s when she was doing the "honor your spirit" series. She was sure she'd be judged and called a fool.
Cut to a decade later and her simple-but-smart daughter feels all sorts of personal turmoil and wonders how much of it is inherited and how much of it is learned and--most importantly--how much of it has to stick around a moment more. Oh, how I love being in my "nine year." Those of you reading who don't know numerology, pardon the shorthand. But I'm actually thrilled, because the first half of 2007 has been all about seeing evidence of what I don't want to take with me into my next nine years. And the keepers headed forward with me... wow. I'm just thrilled. (And really eager to get going with the purging of the other stuff.)
Beautiful, brilliant, lovely, goddess-like Frances Uku reminded me yesterday that there is value to cutting off what isn't working. That it is hard to make the break, but that in the end our personal strength comes from our ability to show up and give (which means that sometimes we DON'T give).
So, I think back to a year ago, when I joined the MySpace (which turned out to be a great idea, since doing so--and then promoting stuffs there--more than tripled my column's readership) and ceased visiting all online forums whose moderator didn't send up a flare asking for my attention. (Believe me, I had been all over the 'net. So paring down to about nothing was a huge cut.)
But now, it seems that it's time for me to make another cut. I've had to bring on more helping hands than I ever thought I'd need. So, maybe I need to do another round of "gotta go's". Be less accessible. Yeah, the idea makes me shudder (and I'm not sure that I can actually do it), but perhaps self-preservation is the theme for the end of my 9 year.
Anyway, I think back to one of the last things my mom said to me before she passed away. I was in the kitchen with my stepdad and one of my brothers, crying over how I'd been--yet again--lied to and screwed over by another family member. Mom--fading in and out from a room away--asked what I was crying about and I said, "Momma, don't worry. It's the same old so-and-so bullshit it's always been." And she asked the same question she'd asked anytime I wanted to be upset about that family drama.
Did you get what you wanted?
And this is when I stopped crying and said, "Y'know what? I did. Thanks, Mom. You're right." I got past the emotion I was feeling and embraced the fact that--even though I got hurt along the way--I got what I wanted out of the encounter (in this case, a ride to the airport, after having commuted home to be with my dying mother; the fact that I had to deal with the bullshit baggage that had nothing to do with me meant nothing, in the final analysis).
All this to say, another round of cuts is coming. I love being accessible. I love answering questions and being available and building up my readership through my posts and creating "brand loyalty" through having such a transparent process in all things. But maybe I now understand that there are parts of the job that require inaccessibility. Maybe it's okay to be full-on out of touch.
Then, when I am in touch, it's a seriously big deal. And it's a choice made from where I'm supposed to be--not where I *think* I'm supposed to be, being all filled with perfectionism.
Hmm. Something to consider, as I move into the "taking better care of me" part of my nine year. And next year, when I ask myself, "Did you get what you wanted?" perhaps I'll be okay with the being called a snooty bitch, which has already started happening.
As Uku mentioned: "The best thing you can do is step out of the ring. It can be hard when you are a naturally helpful person. There are plenty people who appreciate your time and insights. Unfortunately they don't make as much noise!"
So... I'll come back around to answer the question: "Did you get what you wanted?" at some point. And today the want is this: HAPPY.
Posted by bonnie at 1:49 AM | Comments (8) | TrackBack
June 26, 2007
Am I a "Rules" girl?
No. I am not a "Rules" girl. I never did that whole "don't accept a date for Saturday if it's requested after Wednesday" or "no sleeping with him 'til after X amount of time" or whatever (seriously, I don't even know exactly what The Rules are, just that they all looked ridiculous when I skimmed them when the book came out years and years ago).
But I *am* a "Susie Policy" kind of girl.
I actually believe, when IMDB or MySpace has a system for fixing problems (see pages 2 and 6 of this thread and/or pages 4 and 5 of this thread for my take on 'em), that that's good enough. And getting worked up over how fair or unfair the system is just a waste of energy.
And when drama comes up, I'm one to remain solution-oriented and focused: "That's great. I hear you. Now how do we fix this so that we can get on with the work?" And what I have low tolerance for is folks who get in my way while I'm working.
I've never understood the need to wallow in the drama. I've never been one to have a conversation that didn't involve how to improve a condition. And people who look for ways to complain, bitch about unfairness, or vent instead of working on a solution to the problem simply baffle me.
Yes, I vent. And when I'm done letting off steam, I am GO for takeoff on fixing the situation, leaving it better than I found it. And if it's not fixable, I'm out. I'm not going to sit around complaining while trying to find workarounds when there are direct routes that get the job done just fine.
I guess I just don't understand creating "movements" to "right injustices" that don't seem to exist. I'm a by-the-books kind of gal and if I don't like the way some system works, I don't try to make sure everyone else sees the flaws... I channel that energy into creating a new system that works better for me (and maybe for everyone else).
When I speak to groups of actors, I hear things like, "So, you're saying I need to do this in order to book more work?" And that question just blows me away.
NO.
I am NEVER saying that doing ANY one thing is going to result in ANY other thing, as far as this business goes. It's an unpredictable, unfair, illogical, irrational, fickle, ridiculous business. And I love it. LOVE it.
If there were a pill you could take to make you book more work, I'd have developed it and I'd sell it and I could retire from doing the harder work I do every day.
I guess I just don't understand the mindset that has some folks ignoring the hard work they could be doing in order to get better results and instead looking for ways to fight the system over things they're never going to control (and which don't have anything to do with their success in life anyway).
*sigh*
What do I know?
Oh! I know what I know! This particular Mercury retrograde has been excessively ass-kicking to the highest order.
And our UPS lady has a crush on me.
That is all.
Posted by bonnie at 5:32 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
May 31, 2007
I'm all kinds of grateful.
AKA: "Why I love my life today" (without images; sorry).
In five days, I've been on the mic in front of hundreds of people (live; many thousands or more otherwise) both as host and guest of some very Whoprah-like speaking engagements, plus a pilot for The Hollywood Reporter (yes, it's true; the gig that's been in the works for a year now is finally lifting off... and making it an on-camera version is sooo much cooler than writing it up. And no, I can't say more than that just yet).
In 15 or so hours, I'll be in the midst of auditions for the next Cricket Feet Showcase, which I honestly could cast based on submissions alone at this point (seriously, we have some amazing actors in the mix and I cannot wait to get them up and working in front of my favorite industry friends).
I'm exhausted. I'm overworked. I'm sad to miss my hubby for a few weeks while he goes on location to shoot a film (but I'm excited for him and this cool new gig... also excited for all of the silliness I can get into with my friends while he's away... *hee*). I'm totally entertained by the fact that gender is a stronger factor than species, where Archie and Keith are concerned (yes, my boys of different species are exactly alike). My cousin is in O Magazine (page 75, for June) and I'm so very proud of her. Gave copies of my books to my favorite maître d' tonight and blushed three shades of red when he asked me to inscribe them for him. My new best friends are Lee Garlington and JoBeth Williams. In that order. Our new logo for Cricket Feet, Inc., will roll out in time for our fifth anniversary as an entertainment corporation (July, 2007) and it's freakin' gorgeous (thank you, Communicatrix). I'm hoppin' up and down with excitement for rollin' that mess out. It's a load of greatness. You will all love it. I promise. It will touch you in that special way. (Not creepy... you perv!) ;) Hee!
Oh, my goodness! I'm just so very happy and grateful and pleased and filled with grace and happiness and love. It absolutely does not suck to be me right now. Not even a little bit.
PS--I look like a goddess in my new favorite blouse. Girls are lovely and well-represented. *sigh* I'm so freakin' easy to amuse. ;)
Posted by bonnie at 1:47 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
May 23, 2007
Okay, so now I'm pissed!
One of the things I do to try and limit my MySpace time (because, seriously, it can be a time-suck beyond all others) is log in around 11:35pm and force myself to log out before midnight.
I love it. Because I'm in, I'm out... I get it all done, and I'm logged out and no longer "online now" (well, I guess that doesn't really count, since those little indicators stay lit way beyond when you actually log out and I could turn those off in my preferences if I really wanted that to be the way I limited my MySpace time), and most importantly, my little "last logged on" thingy says I was last logged on the day before (since I tend to hit "logout" at 11:59pm and change).
It works for me. Keeps me on-task. Gives me just enough time to hit the MySpace, approve the friend requests (and enjoy watching the ever-increasingly amusing race between my friends and my comments for the big 3000 mark), change out a primary photo, and fire off quick answers to the many messages I receive. The *long* messages get bookmarked to be answered later.
And therein lies the point of this blog entry (well, the point that's between the point I already made and the point that goes with the title of the post).
I have learned that there is a really easy way to get me to answer emails, MySpace messages, blog comments, etc., ever.
And here's the way.
Be quick about it.
Have a quick question. I'll reply with a quick answer. If you ramp up for days to the point (even if that point boils down to a quick question after all), I'll bookmark that shit for answering later. Seriously, if you've sat with me when I've checked my BlackBerry for "messages since last check," you'd know that this is the ONLY chance you have of getting your email answered. It's not personal. It's just a matter of 1's and 0's and freakin' TIME.
[Unless you want your question to get an answer at "The Actors Voice," in which case you have to email me at the address that exists for no other purpose than to be an opt-in for that scenario or say yes when I fire back a quick, "Hey, can I use this?" in response to your long-ass message.]
So, if you want to hear from me and you're freaking out that you haven't yet, try being brief. Try shooting me a one-line comment to which I can reply with a one-line comment. That shit works nine times out of ten. And the emails that scroll for days? They get flagged to answer later.
How many emails are currently in my "flagged to answer later" folder? That'd be 3343 at ONE, primary email account as of this moment (and that includes messages that are getting pretty crucial, w/ regard to casting, speaking engagements, and friendships what will be OVER if I don't at least shoot back an "XO" soon). God forbid you want to know what's "starred" in my spam-catching gmail accounts.
Bless my bones for even being able to keep my head straight for a minute.
Okay, so what's the point of this entry?
Well, I signed off at 11:59pm and went back to sorting/marking the submissions on Another Harvest Moon. (I'm seriously trying to get to a point where my built-in analysis of value structure regarding which rep is the one who rates "highest" becomes a no-brainer, rather than having to review who said what and at what moment which photo was submitted and who included video and what pitch call was better and blah blah blah, but that's another story for another blog entry.) Then I got to a stopping point and received an email saying I had a new comment at my MySpace page, so I did the cool covert thing those of us who don't log in constantly seem to do... I visited my MySpace page "from afar."
Yeah, it said I was still online (but, as mentioned above, that happens... even after I've logged out... so I'm not worried about that), but the disturbing thing was that it said I had logged on most recently 5/23/07.
WTF?!?
I logged on 5/22/07 at 11:35pm as per usual... and I logged out at 11:59pm.
DAMMIT!
So, now I've fallen down the rabbit hole and I'm still on the MySpace way after midnight. That's the surest way to ensure I don't get work done! Bastids!
Ah, well, I'm definitely getting my money's worth. ;)
Posted by bonnie at 12:44 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
May 5, 2007
I blame FX.
So, I've been catching up on TiVo'ed TV and that means a lot of The Shield and The Riches (I tend to stay on top of things like America's Next Top Model and Heroes no matter how busy the week gets.
Well, after consuming several hours of both of these fine yet angst-filled FX shows, I've found I'm having *really* creepy dreams.
Lots of dead people. Lots of dying people. Lots of lying. Lots of covering up lies. Lots of suspicion and emotional turmoil.
This is NOT how a Bon gets her rest on.
Oooh, goodie! The Biggest Loser marathon on The Style Network. That oughtta cleanse the palate a bit! Phew!
Posted by bonnie at 2:11 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
March 28, 2007
Eff Off, Spam Faxers
So, every morning since Friday (usually starting around 6am), we've been receiving a half-dozen spam faxes (or rather, spam fax attempts, since I'm up and intercepting the calls to prevent waste of paper and ink) from...
Number Unknown (and yes, we have anonymous call block),
310.388.8002,
310.388.8021,
514.958.0000, and
514.958.0001.
Eff you, spam faxers. And eff you, state of California, for not offering the most intense level of nuisance call block available to consumers in other states.
PS--I am super busy, miss my regular blogging, and hate to roll out such a negative nellie blitz now that I'm taking a moment's break from Cricket Feet Showcase-based work to post at all. Meh. Spammers suck.
Posted by bonnie at 6:24 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
March 12, 2007
Today is 12 of 12
So, today is 12 of 12 and so far all of my photos have been of cats. And vodka. And expressions on my face that have to do with trying to get a column finished while wishing sleep would come.
*sigh*
At least I'll win the "most boring 12 of 12" contest this month.
Update: column finished (but I didn't do my usual promotional blast. Just NOT in the mood), Snickers bar eaten (chocolate does not put me to sleep, but it totally should), sun just now starting to show up. *yawn*
Blah.
Bored.
Ugh.
Whatevs.
Posted by bonnie at 6:52 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
March 8, 2007
Okay, so...
I was just a total a-hole to a guy in page five of this thread over at the Showfax message board.
And I feel both bummed that I stooped and proud that I didn't tell the dork to suck a fart out of my ass, which is what I really wanted to say.
Is that wrong?
Oh... and Keith wanted me to blog about elbow wrestling, which I will do... later. Got showcase stuffs to do.
Posted by bonnie at 1:28 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack
February 14, 2007
Stuff I have to get done.
1. Showfax.com/The Actors Voice-related.
a. Choose which of the 120 headshots I received should be used in Monday's Bad Headshots, Good Headshots column.
b. Edit those headshots into the format that works for presentation in the column itself (half of this task is already done).
c. Write the column.
2. Showfax.com/The Actors Voice: POV-related.
a. Decide which of the half-dozen contributions from CDs in other markets (I know! I can't believe how many people came through at once!) gets to be tomorrow's piece.
b. Notify the others that their contributions will run in March, April, or May (and hope they aren't mad).
c. Edit the piece I choose and write the "framework" piece to go with it.
d. Update the Wiki to reflect above.
3. Broken Windows/San Diego local hire-related.
a. Decide how many of the actors who said they would work as San Diego local hires but who refuse to make it to San Diego for an audition actually even deserve a response (I'm thinking: none).
b. Decide whether we should schedule new people into the slots left open by those who somehow can't make it to San Diego or leave the schedule a little "open" so as not to over-exert the production team during auditions (I'm thinking the latter).
c. Field the seemingly non-stop calls from people pitching themselves or their clients for these roles (some of which have already been cast by now).
4. Broken Windows/Los Angeles callbacks-related.
a. Confirm all callback appointments that were given out yesterday (in progress).
b. Find receipts from December prereads' production meal we covered, plus parking, and the callback space rental, so that I can get reimbursed.
c. Get a casting intern confirmed to run sign-in, since Keith will be OOT.
5. Broken Windows/name actor offer-related.
a. Follow up on outstanding offers.
b. Decide on next round of offers, if these all lapse without being accepted.
c. Arrange for meetings between name actors already attached and our director (half of these have already happened).
6. SAG CAP casting director/agent event-related.
a. Review list of actors (30--mostly kids) registered for the event.
b. Choose sides for each pair of actors and prep some back-up sides in case there are changes to the group after selecting the sides.
c. Find an intern who wants to help out on Saturday.
7. Cricket Feet Casting Actors Showcase-related.
a. Save and upload demo reel footage on newly-submitted actors so that the rest of the team can review them.
b. Review the venue contract.
c. Book and pay for space for auditions (verify dates with production team).
d. Find the scenes I have listed/contact comedy writers to ask for exclusive material.
e. Contact HHH sponsors to see if they'd like to be showcase sponsors.
f. Contact potential crew/tech/usher/music pros to check rates/availability.
8. Potential casting job-related.
a. Read Porndogs and watch trailer.
b. Follow up with Another Harvest Moon producer and re-read script.
c. Provide bid to Scab director.
d. Check in on How I Lost My Mind and Killed Someone financing status/timeline.
e. Find out of we're too late to work with Paul and Chris, both of whom sent scripts in the past few months when I was too busy to even return their emails, much less read the material. (KEITH! IF YOU HAVE DONE THIS, LET ME KNOW.)
9. Consulting-related.
a. Answer emails from actors who want private consulting.
b. Follow-up with kids' acting camp in Montana.
c. Establish rate for video series services, should THR deal come through.
d. Prep for BBC interview.
10. Other-related.
a. Decide whether I'm going to file for unemployment on the survival job thingy (doubtful... just not my style).
b. Prep 2006 financial records for meeting with tax preparer (I only ever got those four hours done... then stopped).
c. Do initial research on organizational needs/office flow issues bartered out.
*sigh*
Any advice?
Posted by bonnie at 11:58 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
February 11, 2007
A Question I'm Asking Myself Right Now:
(and I asked myself this same question when I attempted to do "the headshot columns" last year too).
Why, why, why, why, WHY do I attempt this column?!? Why?!?
Seriously, it is so so so so so so so much work. I can only hope it is also totally worth it, to those who read it. But, after having done so much work all week long on this AND now having put in four straight hours with another 14 or so stretched out in front of me, I'm just totally spent.
And no closer to being finished with it.
*sigh*
Not looking for wisdom (though, feel free to share any), just venting. And giving myself something to read the NEXT time I think attempting this type of column is a good idea, down the line.
Posted by bonnie at 6:23 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
January 25, 2007
Words That Are Designed To Hurt
There's a lot of theorizing going on lately, what with Michael Richards calling black men "niggers" and Isaiah Washington calling a gay man "faggot," but I have to say that I don't think of these recent outbursts as acts of racism or homophobia.
Remember when you were a child and you would yell at your parents, "I hate you! I wish you were dead!" before slamming the door to your room in a clever adolescent temper tantrum? You didn't say these words because you hated your parents or wished they were dead. You said these words to inflict pain.
The only difference here is that these folks are adults, not clever adolescents in the clutches of a major temper tantrum. Does that mean the rules are different for them? Yes and no.
We all have moments in which we feel completely backed against a wall. We, at those most primal moments, can choose to be filled with grace OR to lash out in whatever way will get us OUT of those situations, based on animal instinct. And in these cases, I'd say we witnessed public displays of the NON-grace-filled choice.
Hell, isn't war a public display of the non-grace-filled choice?
So, I don't see any point to getting riled up about "hate speech" as if it's the WORDS that were used that are the problem. Words have no power beyond what power we give them. And when the words are used only to inflict pain on another (when the grace-filled choice doesn't get made), the focus needs to be on how we can all make better choices.
It's always fine to open dialogue about racism and homophobia and closed-mindedness of all kinds, but far more important (I believe) is a conversation about choosing grace, even when all you can think about doing is hurling the heaviest weight you can lift at someone--for whatever reason.
But, as for "what the words mean," I think it's simple. Just like rape isn't about sex (it's about violence), these words aren't about race or sexual orientation. They're about inflicting pain.
Posted by bonnie at 2:22 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
January 14, 2007
Hmm. Okay.
So, I have a meeting next week for which I need to have a vision of the Cricket Feet "corporate identity." I know. *shudder*
But the truth is, we're coming up on the fifth anniversary of Cricket Feet, Inc., and I haven't got a damn clue what we're about, in terms of branding.
We cast. We publish. We do really geeky computer junk. We support my addiction to writing for and speaking to actors.
But what are we about? What's our business plan? What's our identity?
Use the comments section to give me a word or two, if you have a thought. If you want to read my casting philosophy, FAQ, or way-too-damn-long bio, have at it. Every producer and actor says working with me is exactly like they thought it would be, after having read my casting philosophy. But casting is soooooooo only a sliver of what Cricket Feet, Inc., is about, right?
Posted by bonnie at 3:24 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
January 8, 2007
Dear Santa Ana Winds,
Go away. I do not like you. It is currently 88 degrees in my home and you are creating very unpleasant pressure sensations in my sinuses.
I trust that you will take this note in the spirit it is meant: GO AWAY. I mean it.
Love,
BloodynoseBon.
Posted by bonnie at 3:13 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
December 25, 2006
Merry Christmas
Looking forward to our annual orphans' Christmas celebration. I can't believe this is our sixth year doing it. I guess you *can* build a family in Los Angeles after all. ;)
I guess I never uploaded my photos from 2005. Or did I take no photos at the 2005 event? I know I got glutened while there, so perhaps I took no photos. This year, I'll be fine for photography (since I got glutened at the movies yesterday afternoon and spent the evening in bed sick, sick, sick. Glad I got that out of the way (*sheesh*). I'd really like to not get glutened anymore. That'd be nice).
Anyway, Merry Christmas, everyone! Stay grateful! I'm off the the kitchen to make my famous dip (hey, it's one of a few things I CAN make, so that makes it famous).
Posted by bonnie at 6:18 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
December 20, 2006
Foreign Money
When I was six years old, my brother married my sister-in-law. I was the flower girl. My sister-in-law had been in my life since I was six months old and I had just assumed that she would join my brother in living at our house after they got married. I hadn't even considered that the two would go live elsewhere. I was cute and sweet like that.
When they returned from their honeymoon, they brought me foreign money. I had never seen it before. It had lovely colors, shapes, and textures. The bills were different sizes. There were holes in the coins. And there was such artistry in them! I treasured these pieces of foreign money. And a collector was born.
Quickly I learned that every other place in the world had money that was more beautiful than ours. And every time anyone I knew visited another place, their souvenir for me was whatever they had left over, when emptying their pockets (after exchanging the "big" money for American bills). I began to treasure this collection, because it was not only made up of money from places I would likely never visit, but of gifts brought to me by people I knew and loved. It wasn't like I went to a bank and exchanged money so that I could *have* a collection. I *had* a collection because people who loved me brought me back little bits here and there.
By the time I was an adult, this collection was pretty dang impressive. I actually bought one of those collectors' exchange rate books to find out what the money was worth. But putting coins into sleeves and labeling them, like collectors do, somehow took the fun out of it all. What I loved about my collection was taking it out and handling it, comparing the designs from different parts of the world. Nothing was "mint" except by accident, so what did I care if someone on eBay would pay top dollar for something that I happened to have? I never intended to collect something that was worth something... only something that was worth something to ME.
Cut to July 2006. I'm auditioning actors for Three Poems and a gorgeous young man comes in for the role in which we will cast, well, a most gorgeous young man. It was a fun day of casting, let's just say that (we had a lot of eye candy to enjoy). So, this young man comes in and says, between takes (we're going to exchange out his scene partner and do a little redirect, so there's some chitchat), "I was actually reading your book in Afghanistan last year." Huh?!? That's random. "You were? Um, how?" "I knew I wanted to be an actor and I was living in Norway, so I signed up for a term of service in Afghanistan that would then allow me to come to the US to pursue acting. I ordered your book from Amazon.com and had it with me while I served in Afghanistan. It was essential to my ability to put my plans together for coming here. And now here I am, auditioning for you!"
I was in a state of shock. I mean, sure, I GET that my book is "out there." I've had the thrill of walking past the largest bookstore in Manhattan and seeing my own book displayed in the window, facing millions of people who pass by every day. I've received the emails that say, "Your book changed my life," and "I'll thank you when I win my Oscar because I never would've thought I could do this career without you." But something about having this amazingly talented, naturally MEANT for acting kid in front of me, telling me that he had been in a few different continents in the past couple of years, all the while reading my book and planning for this moment... I don't know... it just felt like one of those WONDERFUL punches in the gut. The kind where you GET that there's a ripple in the water a world away, just because you toss in a pebble.
Sure, I remember the very first days of putting Self-Management for Actors together. I remember the binders upon binders of information on the foot of our bed in our apartment in the Hollywood Hills. Only the bedroom had air conditioning and I was on migraine watch. I had to stay cool and quiet... perfect environment for doing my book. But I was scared. What if SMFA *wasn't* really a book? What if it was just a bunch of ramblings from a kid actor who could never really cut it as an adult? What if it was all anecdotal and not at all practical to actors working today? What if--even worse--it was all wrong? I could actually MESS UP someone's career with this load of hooey.
Keith assured me it was GOOD information. My friends on the BackStage.com message boards assured me it was GOOD information. My mentor Judy Kerr assured me it was GOOD information. My friends at higher tiers in the industry assured me it was GOOD information. So, onward I went. Six weeks in my bedroom from start to finish... then the book was off to the printers. I couldn't believe it was done.
So, why am I thinking about all of this today? Well today I received a little package from Thor Knai, the talented (and, oh yeah, really gorgeous) actor who spoke with me about my book this summer. See, he's back in Norway right now and we had been sending comments back and forth on MySpace. I mentioned that I collect foreign money. He mentioned that he liked reading my books. We each sent packages across the world and here I am fondling my kroner bills and coins with glee. I hope he's enjoying Acting Qs as much!
Posted by bonnie at 10:45 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
December 9, 2006
Hi. I'm an idiot.
So, I pull out my Jury Duty summons to call the "on call" line today. It's very clear, on the paperwork, that you may call in at any time on the weekend before your first proposed service date (mine is Monday), as long as you are already registered.
Well, duh. Of course I'm registered. How else would I get a jury summons unless I had registered to vote? Duh.
So I call in, expecting to be told to either show up on Monday or call again Monday afternoon to check in about Tuesday, blah blah blah.
The system tells me, instead, that I'm not yet registered. I need to push another series of buttons in order to GET registered... so I do that, and of course the system tells me I am LATE in registering (you're supposed to register within five days of receiving the summons, apparently) and therefore I cannot serve as scheduled. I HAVE TO REQUEST A DEFERMENT.
"I don't WANT a deferment," I say to myself. But then I think, "Oh, wait. That actually would be good, as this week is already insane in the extreme, schedule-wise." So, I hit the buttons that allow me to postpone service 'til NEXT Monday, since that's when the industry will be GONE and even if I am the only one in town and therefore HAVE to serve, so what? I'll get a lot of writing done.
I hang up and say to Keith, "Wouldn't you think they would put somewhere ON this summons that you have to call twice? Once to register and once again to report? I mean, I'm an intelligent person. How could I miss that?"
I reread the first line of my summons: Do not appear without registering. No problem! I'm registered. Otherwise, how would I have received this notice?
A few lines down, I see: You are required to register using the telephone within five days of receipt of this summons. Oops. Missed that.
"Maybe they should've put that in bold," Keith says.
Yeah. It's pretty bold.
I'm an idiot.
Oh well... jury duty next week. Fair enough. I deserve to get put on a really long, boring trial after having been that stupid.
Posted by bonnie at 1:00 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
November 25, 2006
Broken Windows and Blue Men
So, if you've been keeping up with the numbers for Broken Windows submissions, you'll like this update.
As of Saturday the 25th at 7:30pm:
UNVIEWED.....VIEWED.....SELECTED.....SCHEDULED.....CALLBACK.....ROLE
12.....509.....279.....0.....0.....SARA
3.....70.....118.....0.....0.....TEDDY
4.....199.....105.....0.....0.....KATIE
15.....430.....263.....0.....0.....NATE
7.....202.....177.....0.....0.....BETH
10.....414.....201.....0.....0.....AMY
13.....428.....274.....0.....0.....WALT
3.....223.....107.....0.....0.....DJ
2.....1.....57.....0.....0.....BRIAN
11.....540.....244.....0.....0.....JOEY
7.....211.....150.....0.....0.....STEVE
1.....33.....54.....0.....0.....MARY
4.....93.....112.....0.....0.....DORI
0.....97.....89.....0.....0.....BENNIE
9.....895.....289.....0.....0.....WAITRESS
2.....14.....16.....0.....0.....WOMAN HIT BY CAR
0.....52.....39.....0.....0.....TEENAGED BOY
All of the numbers added together equal the total submissions. (I'll let y'all do the math.) Hee!
Anyway, that's submissions after one week and one day. Including days like Thanksgiving and "everyone is out of town" weekends. Pretty impressive. This is a big project. We have formal offers out to "name" actors on a couple of role. The pitches have been really dang cool. I'm excited.
I am LOVING the PBS special on Blue Man Group (Inside the Tube). I saw them in their original venue off-off Broadway in 1996 and I still can't imagine what their show must be like in such a large presentation (the theatre I went to had about 75 seats).
Anyway, migraine hell seems to be about over. I've done a lot of sleeping to try and recover from it. Still feel like I've been hit by a bus, but I guess I've felt much worse many times before. But coming that close to a "real" migraine for the first time in two years is scary stuff. Hate hate HATE that I had to miss Thanksgiving, but what'r'ya'gonna'do? When a migraine starts up, you hit the cold, dark, quiet room and stay put.
*sigh*
Back to work! Ooh! COPS is on! Yippee!
Posted by bonnie at 7:51 PM | Comments (2) |