mascot rage

I've done some mascotting in my time.

Let's just say that people treat you differently when you are dressed as a completely anonymous gigantic costumed character with no face.  or a fake face.   People walk up to you and punch you.

let me repeat that.

Grown men walk up to you and punch you.

But this isn't about that. This is about this:

Rufus the Bobcat suffers lifetime ban for brazen attack on Brutus Buckeye

Rufusattack04.jpgDuring my famed tenure* as Mr. Bronco, our high school mascot, I would often go over to the other team's sideline [in my gigantic jumpsuit of brown fake fur with a 3-foot-tall horse head] to do a skit or two with the other mascot.  Here is the basic script:
1. Mr. Bronco and other mascot get in a slapsticky fight involving a wacky prop.
2a. If we are at the other team's sideline, Mr. Bronco loses fantastically.
2b. If we are at Mr. Bronco's team's sideline, the other mascot loses fantastically.
3. The end.

I know what you're thinking, and yes, in many ways it IS reminiscent of Stanislavsky's early work. Anyway.

One day I go over to their side to propose this Formula For Entertainment Gold to the other mascot.  We chat. it's fine. Their school flag happens to be there. I accidentally step on it.

People respond.  I back off and apologize, not there to put on a show, just trying to talk to the mascot about timing and stuff.

But something made me STEP ON THAT FLAG AGAIN.

AND AGAIN.  The only time that any shadow of disapproval has actually fired me up with some crazy adrenaline. Suddenly there was a lot of disapproval. And some pissed off male cheerleaders.

I still can't tell you what took over me, but something really, really did.  I was representing my school (which I hated. WHAT?). And I felt it was my duty to make this absolute stupid point, completely outnumbered, in enemy territory, in a way that no one from my side would ever even KNOW about.  Man it was weird. Man it was stupid.

So I just want to say, Rufus the Bobcat, that Mr. Bronco understands.  Mr. Bronco has been there.  And if your path is anything like mine, you will go on some meds to moderate your moods, move to the East coast to study theater and get some distance from your family.

It's gonna be okay, Rufus.

*I was a good mascot. for reals. 

my inbox can be a delightful place sometimes.

a casting notice forwarded from my agent: 
RATES: We are casting for five primary characters and five secondary characters. Rates are $6000 for primaries and $3000 for secondaries.   THIS INCLUDES THE SESSION, USAGE AND EXCLUSIVITY FOR SCHIZOPHRENIA DRUGS.  THIS MEANS YOU COULD NOT DO ANOTHER JOB FOR A DIFFERENT SCHIZOPHRENIA DRUG MFG COMPANY FOR THREE YEARS.  
well that's hardly fair. you're only casting one of my personalities and the others are going to get hella jealous. 



you never know if the play you are working really, really, REALLY hard on will suck for reasons beyond your control.
And this is what tempts otherwise sane people to write, direct and/or produce their own material.


it's a stretch

In my current play, many friends are somewhat amused to hear that I am playing a Lebanese woman.  It's kind of hilarious. I'm about as Anglo-looking as you can get.  I've even been pronounced "the whitest person I've ever met".   BY MORE THAN ONE PERSON. 

However, the greatest stretch is not that the character I am portraying is a 22-year old Arab.
It is that she is also a PhD in Pure Mathematics. 

This has led me to research some very interesting* blogs, which have comments like this:
Computing e^{-U(x)/T} takes polynomial number of parameters, computing \sum {x is in n-cube} e^{-U(x)/T} in k-SAT is #P-complete, and hence we all believe (but do not know how to prove) that exponential number of steps is needed, but counting is #P-complete even in polynomial problems like matching. So I am still confused about the definition of “parameters”.
Which apparently someone FREAKING UNDERSTANDS
because they responded with this:
parameters are not x_1… x_n, so in computing sum e^{-U(x)/T} he more likely counts number of terms – basic potentials;
Complexity of the problem Z(T) is not so relevant – it might be #P complete in general, but he uses it to determine (if I am right) the number of parameters/terms, does not need to solve it. It is the other way around – when he CAN compute Z(T), then number of “parameters” is small.
People.  And that was an explanation

Did your brain just explode?   Or is my massive ego short-circuiting this to prevent me from admitting that I feel duuuuumb?

*in the abstract


This week's paychecks

Theater Work.
Thirty hours of rehearsal, 4 or 5 documentaries watched outside of rehearsal, additional research about play context.  Commuting time: 12 hours, commuting costs (via public trans) around $25 - 27. Emotional wear and tear as we discuss war atrocities, rape and genocide.

On-Camera Work.
9 hours of actual physical presence, 1 hour of fully catered gourmet lunch (including but not limited to steak, seafood as well as vegetarian options, 3 kinds of salads and 4 kinds of cakes), various snacks and beverages throughout the day.  Hang out and chat with friends.  Read an entire (very good!) novel.  Drove to/from set (20 - 25 minutes each way) with validated parking.

So, tell me again why working in commercials compromises my integrity as an actor? 

*this is sort of glamorizing it. That's gross; after taxes and agent's commission it's down to 651. But STILL.

Transcontinental feline indignation.

Will this make you laugh endlessly as it does me? Oh, who knows.

I mentioned to my Argentinian pen pal, whom I FREAKING ADORE, that yesterday was Bowie's birthday.  Well - it's the day we brought him home from the pound.  We observe this holiday by kissing him slightly more than usual and feeding him many treats from the "Catty Shack" carton that my cousin nobly contributed when she house/cat-sat for us while we were traipsing through SE Asia (I still srsly owe you, hks). 

Gabriela sent this from Buenos Aires from her cats, Kathy and Joy:

This is the most openly hostile birthday wish I have ever seen in my life.

DIOS MIO how it cracks my shit UP. 


drunkblogging leads to prolificnessciencyhood

never mind, I thought better of this post.

you should be happy about that.
I should have another drink.

Questions to ponder, at 1:27 on a Wednesday morning.

1. WHY DID I DRINK A DIET COKE AT 7:30??? I KNEW IT WOULD DO THIS TO ME. I knew it. But I drank it. I think it was because it was free. 

2. Elfa closets

3. Does my director like me?

4. the end.

5. Today, for the first time, I used "b'oKAY????" in a voiceover audition as an adlib. Will they love me for my cultural relevance? PONDER.

AND BEFORE YOU JUDGE ME, just know that I will outlive you. 


well, I think this is successful.

I have had 2 boyfriends in my life, not counting Brandon, and I am facebook friends with both of them.

I frequently look at their statuses/notes/whosits and think: 
What a funny, very smart, exceptionally interesting guy!
I am SO glad I didn't marry him!

Also they are cute, but I do not wish to bone them. I guess it's the same thing.