I'm in the Most Successful Period of My Life

It's been a long time since I've written on here.

It's not been for lack of interesting things happening. I don't want to overexcite my legion of faithful fans (You guys exist, right?), but I seem to be in the most successful phase of my life thus far.

I recently participated in a second Cranky Cabaret, an always-fun, tune-filled, open bar evening. It was both successful and a bit of a train wreck. The first night I went up to sing my first song, the not-funny-at-all Can't Make You Love Me by Bonnie Raitt, and the accompanist and I were not in the same key. It was really neither of our fault- We weren't given enough time to practice beforehand, we hadn't communicated well on how she was going to do the intro. It was one of those mortifying, nothing-you-can-do-but-keep-going moments, and I kinda wanted to kill myself. I pulled myself together and did my much-funnier duet with the fabulous Lauren Green famously, and then when my second solo at the end of Act 2 came, I went up with a plan. My song, the modern classic Bust Your Windows, needed an introduction: I was a white guy singing a black girl's revenge anthem. So I explained that when bad things happen to me, my inner strong black woman emerges. I began to list examples: 'Your boss is an asshole. A bitch on the subway. You start singing your song in the wrong key at Cranky Cabaret and have to redeem yourself with your second song. You know, hypothetical situations.' And with that, I had the audience back on my side. They laughed and applauded. Afterward several people complimented me on handling the situation absolutely perfectly. The simple fact was that I couldn't just ignore it. The next night the Cabaret as a whole went pretty much perfectly, but while it still mortifies me, I'm able to look back and see the good of completely botching a song: It showed me that 1) Even when I totally bomb, I can keep going and do a good job, and 2) People always respond best to honesty. The acknowledgement of my failure and my intentions to recover from it was the perfect first step in winning the crowd back. It sounds much less significant when written here, but I think it was actually one of the best things I've learned since moving to the city.

I also just participated in a short play that was part of the Take Ten festival, executive produced by my friend Graydon Gund. Grady is always reliable for a unique, whirlwind rehearsal process. We didn't win, but it was so good to get back in front of an audience again.

And finally, The Survivalists. My theatre company is legit, you guys. Our grassroots fundraising campaign is coming to fruition in ways we only hoped for. We're producing an absolutely fantastic new show called 3x3, or 9 after 9 by Shane Breaux, Kevin Brewer, and Michael Christopher, and we just finished initial auditions with over 600 submissions with callbacks set for Tuesday. We're in the process of signing a contract with a publicist who reached out to us personally. And last Thursday we threw an unbelievably successful launch party/fundraiser where we raised over $1000 and took over an UES bar and had one of the most fun nights of my life. For those who haven't been following this as it unfolds (What are you doing with your life??), our show bows the first two weeks of June at the Access Theatre downtown. Follow us on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/theatreofthefittest), Twitter (I'm in charge of it! @survivalistsnyc), and our website (http://thesurvivalists.org/). We're the real deal, y'all.

It's been a busy, stressful, exciting time. I hope it stays that way. I have so much more I want to do. I'm desperate to make a webseries or movie or SOMETHING (seriously, anyone interested, let me know). I plan to start a youtube channel soon for music. I'm so ready to start taking classes again. Anything, just to keep moving.

Because sitting still lends itself to self-examination and over-thinking, and those things rarely lead to good things. Despite all the good that's going on, in the quiet times I still find myself wondering when I'll ever get my life together. There's so much about myself I still don't understand, or am uncomfortable with. I'm frequently tempted to make a list of all the things I'd like to change about myself. I still may,  but only under the strict agreement with myself that I will balance it with a list of things about myself that I love.

I'm sure some people would say that staying busy for the sake of avoiding deeper problems is not really healthy, but I would counter that with an opposite theory: If your work and activity become your whole life, don't the other problems start becoming much smaller issues than they previously were? Still. I will always continue to try and transform myself into a better, more complete person. Lately I've been wondering: When will I stop imagining the fabulous life I'm going to live and start actually living it? I'm tired of wishing I'd gone to things, of making up excuses to stay in, or passing up opportunities. I'm tired of wishing I could lose that weight. I'm tired of wishing I would do more worthwhile things with my time.

Which brings me to this blog. I'm undecided as to what it should become. Simply talking about my life has started to seem a little dull to me, and perhaps a bit self-serving (though always remarkably therapeutic). I will continue to update my faithful friends and family on exciting things in my life, but I'd like to write about something a little bit more than that. I'm not sure what that means just yet.

I'm so grateful for the opportunities that have been given to me lately. I'm so thankful for the people in my life who have supported me and mean so much to me (I hope you know who you are). I feel confident that I'm where I'm supposed to be for the first time in a long time, and that's possibly the greatest gift God could give me.

Sharing Myself

When I was flying back to New York City after two wonderful, fun weeks at home for Christmas, I sat next to a man who really enjoyed talking. It turned out he used to live in my neighborhood, and soon he was telling me all about the best restaurants, and who I need to talk to when I'm looking to rent a new apartment, on and on. The other guy on our row was somewhat in the conversation, but he and I were the real New Yorkers. When the plane landed, I was ready to be back, and feeling good.

The airline lost my bag. As I waited at the baggage carousel, one of my bags showed up. The other did not. I went to the desk and waited forever and the worker wouldn't let my file a report because I had checked in late so technically the bag wasn't lost. I left, and grabbed a taxi. Naturally, he took me the long route home, resulting in an overcharge. The happiness to be back had quickly dissipated.

The next morning I decided to start fresh and go to the movies with my AMC gift card I'd gotten for Christmas. I got to the subway and my debit card was declined so I couldn't buy a metrocard. I jumped the turnstile. I made it to the movie and it was amazing, the kind of movie that reminds me why I want to be an actor. I walked back to the subway and jumped again without thinking, and there were cops waiting on the other side. In hindsight, I should have just turned around and left- I'm sure they wouldn't have chased me- but I didn't, and they gave me a ticket. I rode the subway home in tears. In less than 24 hours, the city had shown me once again that I will not be having an easy time in it, ever. At least the movie was good.

The past two weeks I've had four shifts at work, due to our low sales following Christmas. Thank God, I was asked to be a keyholder, which is a guaranteed thirty hours. It hasn't taken effect yet, though, so I'm poor.

Major things have been happening with The Survivalists, the theater company I've been working on cofounding. We signed a rental agreement with a theater for the first two weeks of June. Tonight we had our very first public event, a reading of a play we've been looking into producing. When we got everybody in there and got the real work going, all the doubts that have plagued me just faded away. I'm sure they'll be back, but for tonight it was all as it should be.

It's good that happened, because otherwise the last 24 hours have been rough. I booked an audition I was really excited about, for an out-of-town production of Les Miserables as Enjolras. They sent me the sides, and they were high, but didn't seem impossible. I scheduled a voice lesson/coaching with a new friend of mine to work on it last night and it... didn't go well. I couldn't sing it. It didn't help that I'd spent the hour before frantically running around trying to print sheet music, which included a completely unsuccessful and infuriating twenty minutes spent in Staples, the bane of my existence. I feel somewhat bad for the voice teacher- I was stressed when I arrived at the lesson, and the more we sang and I realized I couldn't hit the notes, the more psychotic I became. When the lesson was over he  tried to give me a pep talk, shocked at how 'defeated' I looked. I was defeated. I HATE not being able to sing anything, but this was an audition that I'd been looking forward to, one of the first ones I'd had in almost a month, and I now had to decide whether I was going or not. I confided this in him, and he had to concede that not going wouldn't be a ridiculous response to how the lesson went. Another train ride home in tears.

After the lesson last night I was supposed to go to a friend's house to watch the Golden Globes, something I've done every year for close to a decade now. The friend cancelled, and we don't have TV capabilities, so no red carpet and awkward celebrity acceptance speeches for me this year. I debated all night whether I would go or not in the morning. A phone call from my mother only increased the uncertainty; she was absolutely in favor of going. She had a good feeling about this one. Furthermore, it was what I was here for: to get up, prepare, and give it my best shot. That's all anybody (including God) could ask for.

I could hardly not go after that. I did all those things. I sang through it at home before I left and hit all the notes. I went, praying to God that I was walking by faith, not fear.

I went in the audition room and cracked on the high notes of both sides. Exactly as I'd feared. Hoo-freaking-ray for going for it.

I know that I can sound pretentious or condescending, but I truly think it is hard for non-performers to understand how frustrating it is to go to an audition and leave knowing you won't even be considered, watching all the others before and after you nail it. All the while knowing in my heart that if just given the chance, I would give them everything I have, I would go above and beyond their expectations. It's almost like losing a bit of your soul every time.

It wasn't the overwhelming emotion that came flooding over me as it had the night before. It was more a sense of coldness, a hardness settling over me as all of the thoughts I try to push away came flooding back. Worst of all, it was a feeling of resignation, that this is what happens to me. I watch as friends book gigs and love their lives, and I sit at home on facebook jealously, trying not to think about anything. More and more I've stopped letting bad auditions and rejections and disappointments in my social life get to me, but it's like a little bit more of my faith dies every time. Late at night, when I let all the bad thoughts in, I lie in bed not knowing who I am, not wanting my life to go on as it does, and not knowing what else to do. These are all of the things that I usually refuse to let myself think about, but sometimes I get tired of not thinking about it. It's real, isn't it? So shouldn't I think about it? Have you ever just wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, not really for any specific reason, but just general protest? Then you understand what I'm feeling a little bit.

The truth is, I don't know what else I would do; I never even considered another career, or really considered that this might not work out. I've spent my entire life building up to being a performer. How can it not happen? They say that you'll book the gigs that you're right for, that ones that you're just what they're looking  for. What if I'm never what anyone's looking for? What if no one ever wants me?

I know that happiness is a choice, that I ought to brush it off, move on, find the good things. And frequently I can. I don't concern myself with any of it, and I just keep going, and keep trying. But sometimes it feels like all the effort and optimism in the world isn't enough; I'm just being optimistic to avoid facing reality, you know what I mean. Perhaps tomorrow I will be able to fool myself again.

It's late, and I don't want to think about these things anymore. I want to push them away, go to sleep, and get up tomorrow, numb myself to it all again. That's what I'm going to do. Breathe in, breathe out, and hope that the next breath brings something better (and even more hope that it doesn't bring the flu). I never know whether to write about the more unhappy times like these, however it is the my truth. I have sought my whole life to share myself, and so I am, perhaps hoping, as always, that someone, somewhere will see something worthwhile and notable in it.

And it's got to get better. It's got to. And when it does, I will share that as well.

I Wore Angel Wings in Times Square.

Why haven't I blogged in well over a month? Unacceptable. C'mon, Jay. Get your life together.

So I almost got in a fight on the subway today. It was the last day of working at David's Tea before heading home for Christmas. I finished at 4 and headed down to Union Square to check out the Christmas market and grab a special something for a brother of mine. I got a text from my friend I was meeting for dinner asking if we could make dinner at 7. I said that was fine, and had two hours to kill. So, I shoved my way on to the incredibly crowded 4 Uptown Express to grab another last-minute Christmas gift. The train was having one of those unbelievably, everybody-touching-everybody, breath-feeling-a-little-constricted crowded moments. A middle-aged man sat down in the fold down chair in the corner and proceeded to attempt to read his newspaper. At each stop more and more people shoved their way in. He began to feel crowded in his seat, and let me know by shaking his newspaper against my leg, asking how he was supposed to read. Caught off guard at first, I responded, 'What do you want me to do? There's literally nowhere I can go.' That quieted him, but I knew he wasn't satisfied. And now I was prepared to retort. When the next stop came and even more people shoved on, he started half-yelling again, griping about his inability to read his paper (as he sat while the rest of us were standing thigh to thigh), about my crotch in his face. I spoke much more forcefully this time, reminding him there was literally nowhere else for me to go, to which he responded that if I would stand my ground they wouldn't push me in. That was about all I could handle.

'Oh, give me a break. Okay, just get over it. There are other people trying to get on the train, it's not just you.'

He instructed me to 'stop being soft', and he edged ever-closer to being punched in the face.

'You need to chill out. Just chill out.' He believed I needed to chill out, and I was happy to inform him that I was chill, he didn't even need to worry about it. Grumble, grumble, grumble from him. He continued to attempt to intimidate me and I continued to throw it right back at him until a lovely young woman sitting across the way caught my eye and shook her head and in a single instant reminded me that everyone in the car was on my side, and I had nothing I really needed to defend. Arguing with idiots rarely gets you anywhere anyway. I proceeded to let him grumble to himself, ignore him, and not budge a single millimeter out of his way.

However. He wasn't getting off quite that easily. My stop came next and as I gathered my bag, I turned back to my friend sitting in his seat and said nice and loud, 'Have a good day!' The whole section of the subway erupted in giggles while Mr. Obnoxious began angrily grumbling even louder. I think the girl across the way may have clapped for me. I can't be too sure because I was admittedly walking away pretty fast in case he decided to jump on my back or something. A guy who'd been on the train with me came up behind me giggling as we made our way out of the subway. 'That guy was an asshole,' he said to me with a great big grin. I couldn't have agreed more.

As I walked down 86th St., I found myself incredibly thankful for that girl sitting across the way, a silent reminder of peace and reason. Thank God for people like that.

There's been so much that has happened since I last wrote that it's hard for me to know what to include, whether I should put it all in and write an essay or just simply explore my thoughts on life at the moment (aka, the usual). Perhaps a little of both.

So working at David's Tea has been a blast and a half. I really enjoy my job- I mean let's be real, there's times when I get annoyed and frustrated, but it's really ridiculously enjoyable and rewarding for the most part. We have finally moved into the Chelsea location all of us new people were actually hired for, and I got to set up and stock the new location with another girl, Ashley. It was such a surprisingly cool experience, seeing the store come together from a big, fat mess to ready to open in just a couple short days. Already, I have regulars at the store. There's a housewife that's come in several times and only drinks the teas I suggest to her, and waves and says hello to me when she passes in the street. I have a 'special drink' that has become somewhat of a legend. I can't reveal just how I make it, but I have not had a dissatisfied consumer yet, they frequently return for it again, and I've had multiple people I've never met come in, find me, and say their friend told them they had to come try 'Jay's Special Drink'. Gotta love that. I mean, I'm like a celebrity. (a celebri-tea? sorry, couldn't resist). Besides all that, I've made some pretty awesome friends. I hope the world doesn't actually end on Friday, because I'd really like to hang out with these people some more.

Still, even with all this job satisfaction flying around, I need more money. That led to one of the most bizarre and humiliating experiences I've ever had in New York City. Months ago, I applied to a company called Theatre Mama that my friend Gabrielle worked for. In a nutshell, they hand out fliers in Times Square. Their gimmick that supposedly makes them exceptional is that they send out performers, a la the tourists are attracted to the girls dancing around like they're in Chicago so they take a flier. Well, several weeks ago I got a call from them saying they'd like me to come in and interview, and told me to be prepared to move. I figured there was going to be some sort of movement/dance test, and I halfway didn't want to go because I figured I would be completely out of place with a bunch of other dancers. However, my friend and my mother talked me into it. I may never fully forgive either of them.

I arrived and two other girls were interviewing with me. It seemed quite normal at first. Then the woman running the interview told us she was going to leave for a little while and instructed us to think of clever things an angel would say on Earth. We had no idea what that meant, and pretty much brushed it off. Then the woman returned, carrying in her arms none other than giant, feathery, strap-on angel's wings for each of us. I began to contemplate just walking out. But I'm not a quitter. We strapped on those wings, she paraded us out onto the street, shoved some fliers into our hands and told us to be angels (as if it were the most divine idea she'd ever had)! As we 'frolicked' up and down Times Square she would shout things like, 'SLOW MOTION!' or 'MAKE A SCENE TOGETHER!' At one point one of the other girls passed me skipping and saying to herself, 'I want to die!' The feeling was mutual. When we had satisfied her at last (She thought we were all truly fabulous), the three of us trudged back in and at one point I turned to the other two and said, 'The things actors will do in New York.' To which one of the girls responded, 'Starbucks is not sounding so bad anymore.'

I got the job. So for the past month I've been having an intense inner debate about whether or not I'm willing to subject myself to that kind of humiliation (which could quite frequently include running into people I know) on a daily basis. The thing that makes the decision exceedingly difficult- It pays $17/hr. One day I was scheduled to work my first shift with them and I chickened out and called and told them I was sick. Since then I haven't had much communication with the company. I told one of my friends from David's about it and she told me she had a couple friends who did that for about two months and then quit because they wanted to kill themselves. I suppose I'll think about it more while I'm at home.

Home... Tomorrow I fly to Estes Park to be with my family. Amy and Julie are coming in a couple days, and then the whole Addison Clan will be reunited once more. I. Can't. Wait. Anyone who knows me well, knows that home is one of the most important ideas in the world to me. Ever since Thanksgiving, which I spent not with the whole family for the first time in my life, it's been a little tougher for me to push myself, find the drive that is so necessary to life and success in this city. I've looked eagerly forward to being home and not worrying about anything, not feeling guilty for being unproductive, not getting gloomy about my lack of superstardom (or even just mild success). Then a couple weeks ago, the pastor at our church spoke about 'waiting' as a Christian. He spoke of biblical figures who waited their whole lives for events, but never lost hope or gave up, and were even satisfied. It's very late at night, and I don't feel that I can explain it nearly as eloquently as he did, but suffice it to say it rejuvenated me in just the way I needed. It reminded me of remembering to be grateful for the things I have, even if they're not the plays and movies I would have loved to have been doing by now. It put into words what I so frequently can't (or at least can't anymore): That I have the knowledge in me that God has a special plan for me, a reason that I am where I am, that He's going to use me in a big way. And with that knowledge firm within me, the 'waiting' becomes so much less unbearable. It can be almost exciting.

Now don't misunderstand me. I know that nothing is ever going to be handed to me. 'Waiting' also requires work, and determination, and drive. What was so good about that day's message was that it reminded me why, even when nothing seems to come of my effort, I still have reason to keep trying (and keep believing). Since then, things have gotten better and better. I was thinking earlier tonight that I'm probably at the happiest place I've been in my life in quite some time.

It's Christmas. Love the good things in your life. Love people. Spread joy. I have been a firm believer in the magic of Christmas my entire life. The day we bought our Christmas tree and put on the pandora Christmas station there was children's choir singing, and I said to myself, 'It's really Christmas now. Time for me to start crying a lot.' Amy said, 'You cry a lot at Christmas?' To which Liz responded, 'You don't?!' God love that girl. She gets me. My point is this: There is so much beauty in the world at this time of year. Be a part of it. Make some more of it.

Merry Christmas!

Opening nights, job hunts, life questions, etc.

Last week I performed on a real (aka non-school) NYC stage for the first time. It was a charming little play called Gastroenteritis on the F Train. I can't remember if I've told this story yet, so I'll tell it now- I first got cast in this play in a tiny one-line role as a homeless man. I went after it full-throttle, doing all my actor homework and asking all those oh-so-important questions like why he was homeless and what caused him to perform on the subway and did he have a mental illness, etc, etc, etc. Then after the first two rehearsals I got an email from the director saying that the leading man had dropped out and they would like me to step up and take his place. I did so.

We rehearsed in public for this show because none of us had the money to pay for a rehearsal space; since the show takes place on the subway, rehearsing in public actually proved appropo. There's nothing like staging a conversation between a male makeup artist, an Indian woman in a Sari, and an East Village hipster in the Winter Gardens downtown to make you forget your shame, which is what acting is all about. Still. This character didn't come easily, for some reason. I don't know if it had to do with mindset, unresolved feelings about replacing the original actor, or what. But Opening Night came and went without me feeling any of the satisfaction that comes from a performance well done.

So I began to pray. I asked God to help me be the best I could be, to cleanse me of the self-doubt that would hold me back, and to help me deliver the good message I believe is in the character I was playing. I believe He has guided and will continue to guide me to the parts I'm supposed to play aka He puts me in projects for a reason. I told Him I trusted that. Then I did my homework, and applied the training I learned at AADA. I determined conclusively my moment before. I figured out exactly what my character's deepest underlying want was. I swallowed my pride and massaged my face and stretched out my body in the dressing room before the show. And I went on the next night and the audience loved it and I felt that rush of perfect performance that I live for. The night after was much the same.

And it made it all worth it. Everything. Every moment of disbelief, of doubt, of rejection, disappointment, stress EVER. I have always said (at least to myself) that true actors are built differently than normal people. There is something in us that feeds directly off of delivering great entertainment to people. It wasn't some kind of grand run of a play, and we didn't even advance to the next level of our competition. But being what that audience, no matter how small, wanted to see, guiding them through emotions and a journey and laughter... That's what I'm here for. That's what it's all about.

It's been a tough time. I'm still unemployed, and every resume and cover letter I send out that gets no response feels like another blow to my ego. I don't understand how I let myself get to such a bad place with money, and I can't understand why I can't find a freaking job. Naturally, this brings out all of the other emotions I usually push down: stress, frustration at my lack of social life, worry about my career, and just about every other negative thought you can imagine- I've probably felt it over the past year. I send a text and it gets ignored. I go to an audition and the person behind the table never even looks up. All these things have built up in me a sort of defense mechanism that is always there to remind me: No one is going to give anything to me. I'm going to have to fight for myself.

But something kinda miraculous happened tonight. For the last several months I've been talking with a few friends about starting our own theater company, and all it would imply, and what we would want it to be, so forth and so on. Recently, we did it. We registered with the IRS and started it up; they all had the money to contribute to make that happen. I didn't. I was tasked with researching our first play. At the time, it pretty much felt like just another burden. It was certainly another reminder that I don't even have a source of income while everyone I know does. And because it's been hard for me lately to focus on anything acting-related, I really didn't do anything about it for the past few weeks. A few days ago I had to send the guys an email explaining that I hadn't done the work they'd asked me to do, and I still couldn't contribute monetarily and I'm doing my best which, as seems to be the case lately, is not good enough, blah, blah, blah. And I pretty much expected a response of disappointment and dwindled friendship.

Tonight they responded. This is what it said (I hope they don't mind me sharing):

James,

 

    I spoke with Emily and Betsy and we totally understand your position. We've all been there before and we certainly don't want to burden you with an extra obligation. If you think taking a back seat for a while would give you time to get on your feet then by all means do it. None of us want to completely kick you out of the company, as we love collaborating with you. That being said, the last thing we want is for you to feel obligated to us; we know this is a big investment, both mentally and financially. Let us know what you would like to do, and not matter what, we will support you. If you'd like to just be a company member and have less background work, we can do that. If you'd like to take time to focus on jobs and come back on in full once you've found a job, that's great. If your heart's not in starting a company right now, we get that too and we'd call you when we start auditioning because we'd still love to work with you. Just let us know what feels right, and we will support you.

 

Just Get done what you need to and we'll take care of everything for now. Let us know when/if you'd like to rejoin in full capacity and There's always a spot for you!

 

That may not seem all that miraculous to you, but to me it was like a reminder of good in the world (at least a reminder of good in the entertainment world). It was a reminder that feeling sorry for yourself never helped anybody, and expecting the worst is the worst thing to expect. I will try and thank those guys for being so understanding, but I doubt words can express how much that email meant to me. 

 

Right now I'm with my parents and sisters in the Poconos Mountains. It's so beautiful, and so relaxing, and they're helping me get back on track with good feeling. I recently went to a group interview for a company called David's Tea that I apparently didn't get hired by but will continue apply to because it sounds awesome. As part of the interview we were supposed to bring in an object that had personal meaning to us and talk about it for the group. At first I had no idea what to bring, but then I realized I was wearing it: My old T-Shirt from Wind in the Willows at the HCPAC in Athens, Tx.- the very first leading role I ever played, and the first show at that theater that shaped me so much. I told them about how I like to wear it at the apartment as a little piece of home. I talked about how I realized how much it meant to me when it recently got stained and I thought it was ruined (luckily, I was able to fix it). I told them about how it was a daily reminder of why I am where I am: Because I love performing. I love entertaining people. I really think it was what I was made to do. It's my way of helping the world, and I believe in the power of entertainment to do that. 

 

So I have a task ahead of me. To return to the city on Monday and stay diligent about the job hunt and GET HIRED. To begin to rid myself of the cynicism that has become such a part of my thinking and trade it in for a renewed belief in the good of people and life. To rediscover zeal and confidence and happy-go-lucky-ness. To acknowledge and deal with the deeper-rooted issues that lead me into these negative feelings. And to trust. To remember why I'm here. To commit myself. To become a better person (That's not to much to ask, right?) 

 

((No. I don't think it is.))

 

 (((Wish me luck.))) 

Desperately Seeking Employment

Good news: New York has FINALLY cooled down, and is beginning to settle into Heavenly Fall Weather (HFW, for short). My nights are no longer spent tossing and turning due to heat (not to worry, there's still my overactive mind to keep me awake), I'm wearing jeans every day, and I don't feel like a big, red sweat monster.

Since my last posting, the leading actor in the show I was cast in, Gastroenteritis on the F Train, dropped out, and I was asked to step up and replace him. I am thrilled to announce that I will at last be making my New York stage debut in a little less than a week, playing the lead! When it happened, it was like a little mini-miracle. I'd just gotten back from doing laundry (an always stressful experience) and was hot and stressed and worrying about money and cursing New York and myself for living here. Then I opened my email and had a message saying they wanted me to play the lead. I guess it was a reminder to count my blessings.

This play is part of a contest of new One-Acts, so depending on audience votes, we may get to perform again. Because it's such a start up thing, we've been rehearsing in public. Since the show is set on a subway train, this is probably actually good practice (Maybe the director is actually a secret genius??!?!), but it has presented some interesting scenarios. With one girl pretending to vomit into a bag, me loudly sharing with her my life story of moving from California to New York to become a makeup artist, and another girl pushing me into a shouting match that ends in my being beatn with a book, there's been some stares from passersby. Still. Just to be in a show, to be working on acting in New York City... I hope I never stop appreciating that.

Of course, every cloud has a silver lining; you haven't heard about the cloud yet. I'm broke. I put off looking for a job for far too long, and now am living with a constant churning in my gut about how little money I have in my bank account. I apply for jobs every day, but thus far have had no response whatsoever. It's especially frustrating because so many restaurants in this city (I would most like to be a server) won't even consider you unless you have years of New York experience. Someone recently told me people lie about that- the thought had never occurred to me. I just don't think I'm comfortable with that. I went to an open call for servers at a new steakhouse opening, Tao Lavo, and they had an impromptu questionnaire about alcohol, what goes with what, name these types, blah, blah, blah. When I couldn't answer them the guy (admittedly, very politely) said I needed to get more experience. The infuriating thing was that I could have learned everything on that sheet in one night. Then I went and looked at the places he told me I should apply to, and every single one said they didn't accept people without 2 years New York experience.

Of course, there's also the obnoxious, non-personal, all-online method of hiring that almost everyone subscribes to these days. One of the first days I was back, I walked down to 86th St. to go door-to-door at restaurants, asking if they were hiring. The first one I went to, Uno's, said yes they were, please apply online. I did so. A few days later I called to follow up. They said in a hurried manner to please not call them, they would call me. This country has become so technology-reliant. Anyway, enough ranting.

I believe God has a plan. I believe I am here for a reason. It's unfortunate because I can't really enjoy the blessings I have because I'm so constantly worried about money. I suppose the lesson is to appreciate the things I have, despite the struggles. Well... I've learned the lesson. Can someone please give me a job now?

I spent a lovely afternoon/evening with some friends I hadn't seen in a long time yesterday, and I'm thankful for that. I'm rehearsing a show with a great part and lovely cast, and I'm thankful for that. I have a family that loves me, two of which are with me here, and I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful for all of these things, I truly am. I will also be very thankful when I find a job.

Called to something different...

I'm back in NYC for the long haul. After my previous post, I returned to Estes Park for a couple weeks to take care of little brother Sam while Mom and Dad took Ben to college at A&M- another Aggie! Whoop! (I am the biggest Aggie fan that never attended Texas A&M)

It was another fantastic break from the heat of NYC in summer, and the stress of living right in the middle of everything I need to be doing. I hiked, I read, I cooked, I sat in a chair and watched movies. I strengthened friendships. And I prepared myself to return to the city and work at what I believe I was made to do.

During the week and a half I was here, I auditioned for a new play called Gastroenteritis on the F Train, part of Manhattan Theatre Rep's One Act Play competition. I had received the sides ahead of time, worked at them, got a real feel for them, prepared, and was looking forward to the audition. I walked in the room the day of and everything felt dead. An audition that I had been looking forward to for days was falling completely flat right in front of my eyes. Needless to say, I left the building more than a little upset, and completely ready to go home.

That night I got an email saying I had been given a part.

Who can say why it happened. Was I a second choice? Did I completely misinterpret the audition? I'd like to think it was because they saw something in me, something special that even my bad auditioning couldn't hide. Something that I've always felt was in me.

It's a small part in a small play, but I couldn't be more thankful for it. I couldn't be more thankful for any opportunity to not only do what I love, but share part of myself.

Over the course of being away I came to a realization, one that I think I've known, but had gotten pushed aside and forgotten somewhere along the way: I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this because to serve others, and because God has given me a dream and a drive. When Judith Light visited my school last year, she talked about how she believes entertainment is a service industry, and rarely has anything made more sense to me. I truly believe I am meant to serve in that way. Sometmes I lay in my bed late at night and I think that I just can't do enough, I just can't give enough. I want to give it all, everything, because that's why I do what I do. To share. To move. To change. To help. To entertain. And I can always give more of myself in pursuit of that ideal.

I look at the people I most admire, and how tirelessly they have worked over the years to be the best they can be. And I want that. I want to share and give all of myself so that maybe I can one day be that to someone else. I could kick myself (and have done so) sometimes because of my laziness. If I can't work toward this every day, then what am I doing?

I don't really know what the point of this post is. I felt the need to write, so I did. Sometimes I look at myself and I think how foolish I am, how ridiculously seriously I take all this, and how much I overestimate myself. But there's always another little something even deeper down inside that tells me to not give up. So I'm not going to quit giving myself. No matter how charming a normal life sounds, I can't do that right now. It's not how I was programmed. There's something in me that draws me to this lifestyle. I will follow that call.

Back to NYC after a month away

I spent the last month having a decidedly NON-New York Experience. I made the decision to run away from the sweltering heat and steadily building discontent of NYC and fly home for a couple weeks. A couple weeks turned into three with a mission trip tacked on the end; I loved every minute of it. Partially because I didn't have to worry about becoming a sweat-dripping, red-faced monster when I stepped out the door, but mostly because I didn't have to worry, period. That's such a fantastic, indescribable, wonderful feeling. It's also, unfortunately, not reality. Not past the age of 18.

Now it's true that God tells us not to worry, and I understand what He means; My eventual destination is secured, and I have a really big helper on my side. So, from the big perspective, life is pretty carefree. But life while we're living it is full of, if not worry, then thinking. Choosing. Taking action. Making mistakes. Struggle is what life is made of. Perhaps we'll get back to that in a bit.

I spent last week in El Salvador at an orphanage called Casa Hogar Jehovah Jireh. My family and I stayed there before when we were on our six-month Central American extravaganza. It's supported by a wonderful company called SHIP and is filled with the sweetest, kindest, most loving kids I've ever known. It's hard for me to even think back on them right now without being overcome; these kids are amazing. We planted gardens and built showers and delivered quail coops and took kids to waterparks and it was a truly fantastic week. It was also a week of much self-examination. I can't speak highly enough of the people that were on the trip with me, both my family and the others there. Such fearlessness, such a complete lack of inhibition or conceitedness; it's hard for me to explicate clearly so I guess I'll put it this way: If I learned one thing from last week it's how much I'm stuck in my head and how often that makes me selfish. How often do I think of myself before others? How can I serve like that? All "spirituality" aside, how much do I limit myself in that way, by overanalyzing instead of just jumping in and DOING?

How many people would meet me and get an impression even close to what I think of those kids? If they can afford to live with such love surely I can too.

I think somewhere in there there's an answer to the musings up at the top; at the very least there's some wisdom. When all I think of is myself, I'm bound to get a little sick of the same thing over and over. If I overanalyze every situation I'll never be surprised. And if I can learn to see struggle, obstacle, work as the stuff life is made of, the stuff that makes living being alive, then I might just start greeting life a little bit more like those kids. Did I just make sense? I'm not sure, but I think I needed to write it.

So all of my problems are solved, yes? No, certainly not. I'm still an unemployed actor who feels more alone than ever in the most crowded city in America, and once I figure me out I can move on to life's other great unsolved mysteries such as how to stay fit while eating what I want, is bigfoot real, and why can't I keep track of a set of fingernail clippers ever. But I may be able to get some sleep tonight now.

On my last night at the orphanage one of the kids slid a bracelet they made onto my wrist. I intend to wear it FOREVER... or at least until it falls apart. Just as a little reminder of how I want to live my life: With love. 

An Update

Well. It's been awhile. I debated for a long time how much I wanted to reveal to the world wide web and anybody I personally know who might read this (and was actually kinda discouraged from it by my dad at first), but I've decided honesty is the best policy in life; I did not end up participating in the show I had been rehearsing for, The Wedding Plan. Various factors that I have no interest in going into anymore contributed to me being unfairly ousted, along with a couple other cast members mere days before the performances. It was one of the most confusing, infuriating, awful experiences of my life. It was both a blessing and a curse that it happened the day before I went home for my brother, Ben's graduation; a blessing because I was going home and away from the city and industry I felt pretty betrayed by, a curse because I had to explain what had happened what felt like 5 million times to my extended family and people (many of whom I don't actually know) who asked how my play was going. (In retrospect, it's really quite remarkable and flattering that people actually care enough to inquire, and I'm grateful for that.)

Of course, once I was home I didn't want to return. But return I did, to several lined up auditions, all of which, as it goes with life, went fantastically. Still. It was a tough time. I was back in a place I didn't really currently want to be. We were in the midst of rushing around trying to decide whether to renew our lease or move. I was (and am) quickly running out of money, and was having a harder time than expected finding a job. And as much as I knew I needed to move on, I still felt ashamed and angry about what happened. And I didn't write on here or talk too much to people because I didn't want to until I had good news to report.

Then one night I had to run out around midnight and go to the office of our landlord to slip our rent under her door- It was the last day it could be turned in, and, being Addisons, we'd waited 'til then to do so. Then I began to walk back to the subway, but when I got to it I wanted to keep walking. So I did. I spent some time contemplating life by a lit-up fountain. I kept walking past more and more subway stops, my mind moving at the same time as my feet. What I came to realize as I was walking the streets of New York City at 2 in the morning was that I didn't need to wait for good news to come: I had more than enough to be thankful for already. I'm living in the city I've always wanted to, pursuing the dream of my life. I have a family that I never could have deserved. And I have an unshakeable faith. I had good news all around me all the time, and I needed to remember it.

And then good news came. I walked all the way home from 59th St to 104th, came in, got online, and had an email waiting to tell me that I had been cast in the first reading of a new musical.

The reading went nicely. It's a lovely new show called My Illustrious Wasteland, and I love the music. They're hoping to put it up in a workshop next (just like Smash, for any of you who've seen it), with the hope of getting some producers to take it to Off-Broadway after that. Now mind you, it's just an inital reading; no casting is confirmed yet. I felt like a real actor sitting in that room. Working on new material, doing whatever is asked of me with no promises and no guarantees. Haha.

Tonight I went and watched an outdoor free screening of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid in Bryant Park. Watching a movie out under the stars (that I couldn't see, this is NYC after all), with the skyscrapers towering around me... It was a pretty awesome experience (even if that movie is one of the weirdest I've ever seen). Last weekend, I drove out of the city with Amy, Julie, and Julie's boyfriend Luis to a state park. They had designated swimming areas, but, naturally, those would not suffice for the Addisons. We wandered up the road a bit, and swam out into the open water, out to a little island sticking up in the middle of the lake. It was fantastic. I'm incredibly grateful that, even in troubling or difficult times, I'm still able to overwhelmed every now and then by the beauty of life. Sometimes I feel it even in just the smallest things, like having the perfect meal right when you want it or seeing the sun set in a beautiful, unique way.

Something occurred to me recently. While I was in the midst of my despair over what had happened with the show, I, as always, began to drudge through all of the painful or traumatic experiences of my life- and I've had my fair share, no matter how well I've hidden them or grinned through them. And it struck me that maybe I go through genuinely dramatic events because I live my life to the extreme emotionally. And, if so, I don't think that's something I ever want to change about myself.

Or, who knows, maybe I'm just truly the King of the Drama.

Anyway, this post has been long and rambling. In a couple weeks I'll be flying home to spend some time with my brothers, my Mom and Dad, and myself. There's nothing like being away from all opportunity to really give me the drive to come back here and prove myself. Naturally, as soon as I officially made the decision to go away for a bit, my social life began to fill up, but isn't that the way life always goes? And who cares! Who knows when the next time I'll be free to go home and just chill will be?

I'll end with this: I recently was asked: If I had 500 million dollars (or some huge amount like that), and never had to worry about money, what would I do? I would do exactly what I'm doing right now, living in NYC, going after my dream. I have to say, I'm pretty proud of that.

Shooting Movies on the Streets of NYC, No Big Deal

Today I agreed to film a scene for a short film by recommendation (I totally don't audition anymore). We were filming in Riverside Park (a lovely place, btw), and the last shot consisted of me walking up while talking on the phone, and then noticing two men fighting, getting scared, and turning and walking quickly the opposite direction. Obviously, there wasn't actually anyone fighting. I was, ya know, acting. Well I did it like a pro, but one passerby woman with her dog became quite concerned about what I was seeing that she wasn't- I was clearly quite disturbed by the vacant meadow in front of me. Eventually she noticed the guy filming and figured it out... and then shuffled sheepishly away. It was rather hilarious.

My AADA classmates all graduated last week. Gotta say, I feel a bit like a proud uncle or something; that is a talented bunch of people. They're all embarking on the tumultuous journey of being an actor in NYC. Good luck, my friends. Somehow I think you'll all be fabulous. It's funny the way life works, though, isn't it? The irony is not lost on me that pretty close to the same time my parents would have been coming to New York to watch me graduate had I stayed in school, they'll instead be coming to watch me perform in my first NYC production.

I've gotta say, it is still so great just to be working on a show. I have such a good feeling about this one. I love my cast, the director is so smart, and it all just feels like the place I'm supposed to be. That is such a great feeling to have. Meanwhile, I'm still filming the short film with Boy Wonder Ben Konigsberg; there's beginning to be a joke that those of us who signed on for this movie will have work every Saturday for the next two years. I think we'll be finishing it all up this Friday. But who knows? I will keep acting for that kid as along as he will let me.

For some reason, despite my ever-dwindling bank account, I can't seem to make myself start working part-time. Chalk it up to a delightful mix of wanting to avoid stress, wishing I could just be an actor and that's all, and, of course, that old reliable laziness. I think I will probably get on the whole unemployment thing tomorrow (like I haven't told myself that a hundred times before).

Life is good. I'm doing what I love, I'm having more of a life than I've had in like a year (a true miracle for me), and I'm greeting everything with an attitude based on love; life is lovable. There is a beauty to life if you will let yourself see it, even in the hardest of times, even when you've been 'done wrong'. I'm speaking from personal (even recent) experience. Move on. Keep going. Learn from it, and love it. I'll end with this quote, which I've liked for a very long time from Virginia Woolf: "To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is... at last, to love it for what it is. And then to put it away."

Staten Island Adventures

I had an adventure last week. The weekend prior, we hadn't finished filming the short film I've been working on and I was supposed to come in on Easter Sunday to finish it up. Amy and Julie had decided to go to Washington DC for the weekend, and I was going to have to stay behind. They drove Amy's car (which has been the source of unbelieveable amounts of aggravation for her) to DC, and parked it in a garage close to our house when they got back around midnight Sunday night. It was requested that little unemployed me drive the car out to Staten Island where Amy's friend lives and park it. After much cajoling, I was talked into it and I convinced Liz to go with me.

For those of you unaware, Staten Island is technically a part of New York City, but it's about as far away you can get without leaving. It's across the river, on a different landmass. We mapped out our course, spent half an hour finding the garage they had parked in, went sprinting back to the apartment to grab the keys (wouldn't have gotten far without those), and set off. The drive took FOREVER. We were supposed to be back by 2 (Liz had work at five); 2 o'clock rolled around and we were sitting in traffic on a bridge. But jamming to CDs, surviving on a canteen of Dr. Pepper and box of Cheez Its had a wonderful feeling of home to it; we weren't too distressed. Then we reached our destination. We could not find this guy's address anywhere. We saw the numbers before and after, but not his. Eventually we assumed he must be one of a cluster of apartments and we parked the car in the according parking lot. The bus came that we were to take back to Manhattan, and we were not allowed to enter, told that our Metro cards were not sufficient for this oh-so-grand 'express bus'. Liz was beginning to get concerned. The only other bus option was a local that would drop us at the ferry- no way we would make it back in time! So after some kind help from a man waiting for the NEXT express bus (which wouldn't come for half an hour), I was informed that the closest place to buy a ticket was down the Avenue at a laundromat. I went sprinting off, theme music running through my brain. I got the ticket! We made the bus! We got back less than an hour before Liz had to start work, but all in all it was okay!

That night I was informed the car had been parked in the wrong place. The next day the guy told us a note had been put on it saying it would be towed. And the next morning I found myself catching the confounded express bus, all alone, back to Staten Island.

But I succeeded. I moved that car to its proper place (the side of the road, apparently), and without the dramatic confrontation I was imagining with the tow truck man as he loaded it onto his truck at the exact moment I jumped off the bus shouting 'WAIT!! THAT'S MY CAR!!!' (Though perhaps that might have been a better ending to the story.) Still. Success felt sweet, especially since I've been riding on a bit of a wave of success lately and Amy's car being towed would have really broken that up.

Well for the most part it's been a wave of success. The night before my second outing to Staten was not a good one. Without going too much into details, it was brought glaringly back to my attention that I'm not always the nicest person, frequently to the people who mean the most to me. I know why I do it: It's a laziness thing. I spend all my time in public trying as hard as I can to please, so when I come home, or am around people I'm truly comfortable with, I stop trying as hard. But that's no excuse.

Succeeding with Amy's car was a nice bounce back, and a good start to a renewed attempt at being the man God wants me to be. That was the lesson, I suppose: When I'm working to please God, my relationship with others will fall into place.

I've begun to feel grown up for the first time. I paid taxes this year, and if that is not the bane of my existence then I don't know what is. I'm doing well on the acting front, but I'm also facing reality for just about the first time: I'm running out of money. I'm having to come to terms with the fact that I may not be able to support myself right now by doing what I love. That's not been the best feeling.

I'm blessed, though. It's pretty hard for me to forget that these days. As long as I remember that, the stumbling and stress and other stuff will be okay. Hope this finds everyone who reads it blessed too.

Feeling like a real actor

Well. It's been quite awhile since I wrote anything on here. I doubt anyone is still reading, but I'm feeling a need to share (and, I'll admit, brag). So here it goes.

Quite a bit has changed. I returned to NYC from Christmas refreshed and determined. And gone were the days of sitting around in pajamas, watching all the wonders Hulu could offer, pretending to think about doing something productive. If I've learned one thing this past year it's that idleness is the root of discontent; get up, get dressed, and do something. I took classes- on-camera acting, some dance (though I gotta admit I slacked off on that front pathetically quick), and continued voice. Was I spending money out the wazoo? Perhaps. But I was happier than I'd been in months. And somehow that translated into more audition appointments than I'd ever gotten.

Was I landing those auditions? Nope. But I kept chugging.

Still. It ain't easy getting told no (or better yet, getting told nothing) over and over again. It begins to weigh on you, no matter how active you force yourself to be. And after three appointments in a row for which you especially prepared and were excited, and then get told 'That's all we need' before you even finish your material... Well, let's just say the depressed actor texts were beginning to be sent to Mom again.

And then I walked into the Richmond Shepherd theater to audition for The Wedding Play. From the first moment it seemed special. I started to read the sides they'd sent me, and then was cut off halfway through, 'Well crap, he hates me.' racing through my brain. But instead I heard: "I really love what you're doing, but I honestly think you're more right for the lead."

"You know," I said, "I actually thought the same thing." Big laughs from that one.

So I went back out and looked over the sides for the lead. I went back in, read, and walked out feeling better about an audition than I had since my very first. Three callbacks later, I had the part.

Not long after I jetsetted off to Puerto Rico with my family and spent a blissful week on the beach. It is remarkable how refreshing a week out of NYC can be. I returned back in time to do a short film by a young kid named Ben Konigsberg- He's fifteen. He's also amazing. Really. He understands how to make movies, how to talk to actors, and his script was retardedly ambitious- and he lived up to that ambition! Was a bit intimidating for newbie like me; I learned alot this past weekend. And I have no doubt that I worked with someone who WILL be a professional director one day.

And then I went to the first rehearsal of my play, rejoiced over my awesome cast and director. I think it's gonna be really funny. I can't wait to keep working on it. I've really felt like a real actor for the first time this weekend.

Life is good. God is good. I'm humbled, and determined to give it my all. I guess I did learn another thing this past year: Keep on believing.

Recharged

Home is an idea that holds... very strong emotion for me. It's something many people search for their whole lives, or something they feel they don't have. For me it's the place I can go to lose my cares, to restrengthen and recharge; it's where my family is. It's where there's love. I guess I should count it among my blessings that I've always had a home worth returning to.

Anyway. Being home for Christmas and New Years was a much-needed and indescribably rejuvenating blessing. I've been back in the city now for two (three?) weeks, and I'll be you-know-what-ed if I'm not working my butt off (at least much more than I did the last several months). Classes and auditions and errands and whatever else all built up to me eventually deciding to do nothing but sleep and become a vegetable one day. Of course, once that old familiar laziness started setting in, something in my brain told me I had to get off my butt and get back out there. I don't know what has reinvigorated me so, but I'm sure glad it did.

I can definitely say I'm feeling much better now than I was when I left; of course, there's plenty of time left to become redepressed. Productivity breeds contentment, though. I have been living by that creedo since returning to le grande apple.

Still. There's always more I could do. At the end of the day, I still have my mind racing, trying to analyze the steps I should take. Part of this more productive lifestyle comes from a constantly self-critiquing attitude- I'm not cutting myself any slack anymore. If I want this, I'm going to have to fight for it. It's not gonna be handed to me.

Self-critiquing comes easy when you're stepping out into unfamiliar territory. My first On-Camera acting class is a wonderful example: I cannot even articulate the mortification of watching myself up there these first few weeks. Literally all I can see are flaws. But, dadgummit, I am going to get to where I'm satisfied with myself! Enrolling in dance classes is another great scenario: My first class I went to with my friend. She failed to inform me that it was an Intermediate Level class, and they're leaping and bounding across the room like it's nothing. I had never done a dance leap in my life. But I kept going, and have now been much more properly enrolled in a beginner level (which just so you all know does not really mean beginner. We were still leaping by the end of that class. I just wasn't the only one less-than-spectacular at it.)

I sit here tonight, far past when I should have been asleep, just a bit overwhelmed. I am a blessed boy. I look around at my life, the people I know, and I feel love. And that means so much to me. Love is the foundation of a life lived well. It goes back to the home thing; to feel love is to feel a place of home. So to feel love around me is powerful. It's being at home in the world. I don't know if that makes sense. I guess the point is this: Spread the love, y'all.

Pointless post, I suppose. But there you have it. I'll just share this (not sure if I have before or not). But it's one of my favorite songs:

I never know what to 'Title' these posts- My Thoughts on Life at the Moment

Well. The end of my first 'semester' (Am I allowed to say that if I'm not in school anymore?) of being the struggling NYC actor. I'm not entirely sure I would call it a success. It's been a lot of blank-faced 'thank yous', rejections, wastes of time, disappointments, and even the rare complimentary auditioner... who still doesn't even give me a callback. I even had one guy say, literally, 'GREAT job, James! Very good. Go wait in the room, buddy.' So I waited. They never called me back in. That was one of the most frustrating days.

For those who don't know how the entertainment industry works, it's still very much based on unions. There's the Screen Actors Guild, and Equity, the stage actor's union. There is another, smaller union as well. Point being: I am not a member of any of these unions because I have never been cast in a union show or film. I am what is known as a 'Non-Eq'; there's quite a horde of us. We wait from morning til evening at Equity Union calls, our names on a list that may or may not be seen. Any Equity member that walks in gets preference over us, BUT when they happen to have space, they fit us in. Now, the auditioners (people behind the table) are pre-told that we are non-union, so we are automatically a step down in their minds. But hey. We give it our all in those Equity calls anyway. Sometimes you don't get in, though. I seemed to be cursed with not getting in my first month; twice they called the Non-Eq person right in front of me on the list and then ran out of time. Those were tough days too.

I wouldn't say that this 'term' has been without its charms. I have fond memories of cheering on the runners in the NYC Marathon from our fire escape as they schlepped past us on 1st Ave; I think Julie & I were the LAST people cheering that day. And I did make a short student film that was quite an experience within itself. If I understand the script (which I'm still not sure I do), this lazy slob recieves a plant on his doorstep that has magical powers and tries to make him be more active and healthy... until it gets destroyed by a crazed lumberjack. I've gotta say, the two days of filming were two of the most fun days I've had since returning to this city. And there's been other experiences, other times.

Still. I would be lying if I said this has been an easy four months. I really thought I would have gotten an acting job by now, and I haven't. Having dropped out of school, I don't see hardly anyone anymore, and pretty frequently I feel very lonely. Weekends where no one sends or answers a text or asks me to do anything can make a guy feel pretty low.  I constantly question the decision I've made, whether I'm on the right path career-wise, what I'm even doing here. I haven't been being healthy, which doesn't help the situation at all. And being told no over and over again, things not happening, and lack of activity all lead to a struggle to keep faith. We don't like what we don't understand; I don't like the way my life is right now. Sometimes holding on to 'faith' that there is a 'plan' seems foolish.

But faith is what brought me to the decision to leave school. Faith is what brought me to New York City last year. Every step of the way I have told God that I was giving it to Him. So I must believe that there is reason. I've got to keep believing that.

And, as hard as it is sometimes, I have to fight against despondency. I am alive. I am (relatively) healthy. I have a wonderful family, particularly a wonderful sister who has been with me the whole time. And I have passions and dreams that sometimes still overwhelm me. Walking down the street today, not too cold, just cool and crisp, the sun shining, the sound of light traffic and children and people living their lives; Sometimes you have to find happiness in just being alive. I mean after all, that's more than some people can say.

I am alive. I am unique and important. I am not giving up because I am pursuing my oldest dream and greatest passion. And (most days) that is enough.

Things That Annoy Me in NYC

So for some time I've been planning to let you all in on the list of things that drive me up a wall on an almost daily basis about this city. Let's dive right in, shall we?

• Trash. I've been to Boston. It is possible to keep a big city clean, but it has not been achieved in New York City yet. Here's hoping they figure it out one day.
• Saunterers. These are the people that apparently have nowhere to get to and nothing to do- they're just out to wander the streets of the biggest city in America and take it all in the most lackadaisical way you can imagine. They can attack anywhere. On the street. Entering and exiting the subway (so that you must literally herd them out the door in order to not miss your stop). In restaurants, on running tracks. They're movement generally involves walking in anything but a straight line as well. Which makes it all the worse.
• The people who stop IN THE MIDDLE OF A CROWDED STREET AT THE MOST INOPPORTUNE TIME because apparently they've suddenly been overcome with a revelation of some sort that literally stopped them in their tracks. They seem to enjoy doing this right in front of me.
• Escalator-Blockers. For those of you unaware, there's an unspoken rule on escalators: if possible, stand on the right side if you're going to ride, leaving the left side free for those of us in a bit more of a hurry to walk up. Some people (not gonna lie. mostly women.) appear to find some deep-rooted satisfaction in being the person who chooses to stand on the left, blocking everyone behind them even if there's an open space to their left where they could stand instead. Is anarchy taking over? Is this real life??
• The MTA, aka the Subway System. It is beyond my understanding how there is incessant work to be done on the Subway lines, and what is even more confounding is how it always needs to be done on the days when I'm in a hurry. Delays, changes in service, inexplicable huge crowds on the platform; you name it, it's made me late. And let's not start on the smell.
• It's expensive.
• It's expansive.
• It's crowded.
• It's expensive (worth mentioning again. All though life seems to be generally expensive these days no matter where you are.)
• People don't know how to do their jobs. If Julie were writing this post, it would be about the Post Office employees. Since it's my blog, we're gonna talk about Staples. Staples and I are not on good terms at the moment. The first time I went to Staples to print off my headshot and resume, the guy was so helpful, he figured out how to print my picture at perfect lightness/darkness, and it was cheap. I've been needing a refill. Throughout this past week I have been told by various Staples that they can't give me my prints until the next day (while I'm standing right in front of them in their open store with my flash drive), that they didn't know how to do that for me, that I could go do it myself (they'd give me the photo paper), and now today I finally went back to the original store and the guy couldn't match my picture at all, none of them looked as good as my first set did no matter how many ways he tried, and it cost me almost $40. I feel like it cost me less than $10 last time. Feeling an explosion coming on, I paid the sum and exited the store. Into the rain. (Again, this lack of intelligence in the workplace may not be limited to the city)

While I'm on a roll here (and since I've started listing kinda general life complaints), I might as well get something else off my chest that I've wanted to say a long time. Cords drive me crazy. Extension cords, vacuum cords, headphones, phone chargers, ropes, christmas lights; cords are the devil. They manage to tangle themselves, no matter what you do, into the most incomprehensible knots- They tie a better knot by themselves than any human I've ever met.

Today was a rainy day, and Staples ticked me off so I decided to finally write my whiny, complaining post about how my life is so hard this afternoon. Then I got on the subway ride home and there was a woman in the car with me that couldn't sit up straight, was totally unbalanced (I tend to think mentally as well as physically), and just clearly was messed up. I didn't know what to do. Some people laughed. I was scared to death she was going to tumble headfirst into the aisle. I wanted to help her (I wasn't the only one), but what could I do? So I just got off at my stop, and felt ridiculous that I didn't ask her if she needed help or knew where her stop was... or if she could stand up when she got there. And immediately I realized that I've got it good, and no matter how much of a pushy, impatient New Yorker I become, I better never forget where how big I'm blessed. And all these miniscule little annoyances should never keep me from taking a breath, putting it in perspective, putting on a smile, and being damn grateful for what I've got.

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The Return of the New York Experience!

So since I returned to New York City, I've been wondering how to go about starting to blog again. It seemed like a heck of alot of pressure and build-up after several months of non-blogging; how do I sum up what's happened over the past months, where do I start, does anyone read this, WHAT AM I DOING??? Oh, another day gone by! But then I thought what the heck. I'm just going to start like I never stopped. So here goes.

The other night I attended a fancy-shmancy charity gala for Broadway in South Africa. My friend helped organize the thing, and asked if anybody would be willing to volunteer the night of. With the promise of celebrities and feeling good about helping out, I agreed. I put on my cool clothes, tied my own tie for the very first time (Why didn't I just follow a step-by-step video online years ago?), and wore my glasses for some extra flair.

Broadway in South Africa is group of working Broadway actors who have joined together to go to South Africa and teach arts camps at the schools. They've seen kids leave gangs, come back to school for the first time in years, graduate and go to college. They've seen them begin to write music and plays, perform; the singers and the kids at the gala performed all original songs written by the kids. The program has gone from a small group of actors with an idea to the big charity it was.

It was ritzy, all right. I helped shepherd people into the right doors, make sure their names were on the list, etc. Then as everybody got settled, I snuck up to the balcony and snagged a good seat. The lights went down, and the first girl began to sing, and it was too much for me. It was beautiful. Such a pure, powerful voice, moving everyone in that room to cheers. It reminded me once again why I've chosen this life: Because art, entertainment, music, drama is powerful. It's important, and it moves people. Here's a group of actors literally changing lives with what they do. It was a nice little wake up call. Oh yes. That's why I'm here. That's what I'm working to achieve.

For those of you who don't know, I decided not to return to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts this year. It was one of the hardest decisions of my life, but it was a leap of faith I had to take. That's the key word right there: Faith. That's what I'm living on these days. But I know that there is a reason, and I know that there is a plan. Now begin the days of auditions, open calls, finding work, and being told 'NO THANKS' (or getting no response at all) over and over again. Some days I feel like a true New York actor, rushing from audition to audition, singing my heart out, and handing out resumes and headshots left and right. Other days I wonder what the heck I've gotten myself into. But even on the worst of days, I find ways to remember what I'm working toward, with little reminders like the one I got the other night. And I have confidence in knowing that I'm being taken where I need to go. You don't drink the water if you don't dig the well. So I'm gonna keep on digging. And I know that one day I'm gonna hit a spring. And it will burst forth and shoot into the air like a geyser, powerful and dynamic to all who see it.

(At least I  hope so.)

Final Days

I have 3 days left in the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, including today. Tomorrow my first second-series (don't think too hard about it) exam play goes up. The final one will follow on Monday. Then I'll be leaving New York City for the summer a mere few days afterward. Crazy.

This is from some time ago, but it still inspires me every single time. It's pretty much the coolest thing ever; happened on national TV, at a mainstream, secular music event. Watch everyone's reactions. Gotta love country music. I hope one day I can be of use like this. I hope you enjoy it. Taken from yahoo.com, the video is at the bottom.

 

Carrie Underwood's 'How Great Thou Art' Moves The Masses

It's no surprise that country music fans were anticipating the TV special Girls Night Out: Superstar Women of Country, which was taped at the 2011 Academy of Country Music Awards weekend earlier this month and aired Friday night on CBS. However, it was a gospel song performed at the show that unexpectedly crossed all boundary lines and created a viral sensation over the weekend.
Carrie Underwood was just one of many huge names in the allstar lineup, but her duet with Vince Gill of the classic standard "How Great Thou Art" managed to bring down the entire house--and internet, at that. According to Yahoo! data, searches for Underwood's rendition of the tune spiked a whopping 362% on Saturday.
If that weren't enough, the video of the performance has received nearly a million views, and has drawn extraordinarily high praise--with comments ranging from "Wow! God was in the house," "I am not a Christian but this is truly beautiful," "She is an angel" to "This is the most moving version of that song I have ever heard," "She rocks 'em and socks 'em," "I'm speechless."
One user even went where most dare not tread, and compared Underwood to the King himself--"I thought that nobody could come close to singing this song like Elvis did during his concerts. I was wrong, Carrie put her heart and soul into this amazing version!"

Underwood and Gill's fellow stars in the audience appeared moved by the performance, as well. Martina McBride stares transfixed at the stage, the ordinarily humorous Blake Shelton and Miranda Lambert watch reverently, while Sugarland's Kristian Bush nods his head and Jennifer Nettles mouths "What a voice."
After hitting the final, climactic notes, Underwood wrapped the powerful performance up with a hug for Gill. Then, she wiped away a few tears...and faced a standing ovation from her peers. How great, indeed.

Only in New York

Saturday night Amy, Julie, and I decided it was time for a Chipotle run (a ridiculously common occurrence for me), and walked our way down to the nearest one on 85th. Being dinner time, it was crowded and the only seats left were at the bar facing the large window that looked onto the street. We finished our food, and idled in our seats. There was music playing overhead, and a particularly beat-tastic song came on, and, naturally, the three of us began to dance in rhythm together. The response from passersby on the street was overwhelming- every person that walked by began to laugh or cheer or join in the dancing- I couldn't keep a straight face myself. This all culminated in a group of teenage boys walking by who became especially enthralled in our dancing... They walked on, but one of them returned moments later and mooned us for all to see. I don't know about the rest of you, but I consider this ultimate praise! I also appropriately recently discovered a new favorite quote: "We are all fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well just dance."

The night before that was one of the most fun I've had in the city, having a grand old time with all the people from school. Let's just say it involved a rooftop (with a view of the Empire State Building!), music, dancing, and lasted (for me at least) until nearly 5 in the morning. It was fantastic.

A few weeks ago, a clearly deranged and drugged out man got on the train with me, talking quite loudly to someone who was not there. I think he may have been finishing a conversation from earlier- You know how we all think of the things we should have said after we've talked to someone? Well this guy was saying those things out loud as if the guy could still hear him. Little gems like, "Got a fine woman on your arm, can't take care of her. I take care of my women!!" and  "I fear no man! I walk with the LAWD!!!" At first he was just annoying the crap out of me- how many crazies can there BE in this city??!- and I was quite tempted to speak up and force him to stop. While I was trying to figure out the best way to run quickly after saying something, I began to want more than to make him shut it. I genuinely started considering asking him, "Excuse me, who are you talking to?" The answer could have been fascinating. Unfortunately, an old man got on the train and the crazy dude started addressing the general assembly asking, "What has happened to this country?! Tell me! What has happened?!" The old man asked him what he thought had happened, prompting crazy dude to stand and say he asked first. Old man began to explain exactly what had happened to this country- successive bad administrations, which caused Crazy to exclaim how he was an idiot and successful administrations weren't the issue. I began dreading the inevitable saving of the Old Man I was going to have to perform, but luckily Crazy got off at the next stop. Old Man turned to all of us and said those always-true words: "Only in New York."

Tonight... I guess I could talk about the stuff that isn't so great. But there's not much point in focusing on that, is there? And though half the time things still don't really make sense to me, I'm beginning to think I might be thinking a bit too much.

So carry on, folks. Keep that head up, even when you would like nothing more than to bang it against the table repeatedly. Song that has pretty much been my anthem for the past few weeks:

Successful Weekend!

Okay. Last October, me and my friends Alex, Jake, and Kyra happened to be in Madison Square Park at around 11 in the morning checking out the Shake Shack. As is usual with that park in the fall months there was some kind of music festival going on, and as we sat down a little band took the stage called Tim and the Space Cadets, singing fantastically cool kids rock songs like Superhero and The Greatest Party Ever. We instantly became the group's biggest fans, heading backstage like stalkers and making our way to lead singer Tim. Six months and several Facebook requests later, today we found ourselves at Kindiefest in Brooklyn catching the Space Cadets once again. Before we knew what was happening, we had T-shirts and CDs, were chilling with Tim and friends, pulling roadie duty and helping load up the merch, and heading out to eat with pretty much the coolest band ever.

It turned into a pretty awesome afternoon, folks. These guys are rockin', and Jake, Alex, and I were definitely starstruck, flipping out, and every other version of excited. Tim is legitimately our hero, and now we don't have to feel like creepy stalkers when we say that- We know that guy! If you wanna check out the band you can go here: http://www.timandthespacecadets.com/. I recommend 'em, yo.

Yesterday evening was spent at Coney Island with friends, and all I can say about that is LOVE. Between frisbee wars, volleyball, picture-taking frenzies, and eating dinner at McDonalds like true Americans, I had one of the most wonderful nights in a long time.

One half of my first series of Exam Plays at school is done; I performed in Bury the Dead on Friday. It's such strange work, acting. When you're performing, it's difficult to ever know whether you're doing well or not. I'm guessing this is particularly true of deeply emotional roles, which Bury the Dead certainly was (Dead soldiers rising out of the grave, refusing to be buried despite begging by the significant women in their lives. Ya, it's heavy.) The compliments I received from friends and faculty afterward were probably the most humbling experience I've gone through in awhile. Tomorrow is the final performance of my second show, The Shadow Box, and then it's on to two new plays! I can't believe this school year will be over in just a few weeks. That's crazy.

Day by day, I try to stay strong. It's not easy; it still hurts. I still don't really understand. But I guess I don't have to. Days like these, moments of wonder, joy... I'm grateful for those. The rest I'll try to let go and let Him take care of.

One Day at a Time

New York Tip of the Week: For a lovely evening out, I highly recommend this delightful outing I just experienced. Take a stroll across the Brooklyn Bridge as the sun is setting. Enjoy the ample and varied people-watching available and make sure to snap some picture of that New York skyline. In Brooklyn, a mere walk from the bridge, is NYC's oldest and most-acclaimed pizzeria, Grimaldi's. A favorite of celebs as widespread as Rudy Guiliani and Frank Sinatra, Grimaldi's has been an institution in New York for decades. Thereby, you can expect to wait in line over an hour if you're arriving at dinner time. Never fear! There is also, just down the street, the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory, another landmark with nowhere near so long a wait, and chilling with an ice cream cone to tide you over during that wait for pizza sounds just heavenly to me. Julie and I had this charming evening as the final night of our growth group bible study- which ended up pretty much being the two of us and the two leaders. Afterwards, Brian and Cynthia decided against a return trip across the bridge, but Julie and I trekked it up all the way across the river and back to NYC. The view of the nighttime skyline was absolutely worth it.

This morning I went for a run in Central Park. Don't tell anyone, but it was the first time in weeks. Sadly, there hasn't been much motivation flowing from me as of late. But I must say I'm very glad I did it. I decided to up my game for my first time back out, and jogged my way around Central Park lake. If you are ever in this city during the spring, I insist that you take a run (or walk, for those of you less ambitious) around the lake. It is almost breathtakingly beautiful, the trees blooming in bright whites, pinks, and greens, the air never more refreshing. Kids play on the playgrounds, the birds and squirrels run all around you. I engage in surprise sprinting races with my fellow lake-runners. For that moment, all was well.

Tomorrow is the performance of my first exam play at school. And I'm going to show them all why I'm here.

Hope

Since returning to New York City and my dear American Academy of Dramatic Arts, I have handed out granola bars and bible verses to the homeless, drugged-out inhabitants of Union Square Park (I made quite a few friends!), ran four avenues to the subway at 1 in the morning in the pouring rain after a movie, pretended with my friend Vivian to be a young couple looking for a new bed and thoroughly testing each mattress at the mattress store, and been trapped between a stroller and a wheelchair on the subway as the train was coming to my stop (Who do you awkwardly ask to move?). I've also had quite a success story with the sisters- We have continued to run into this one particular guy from our building, finally me introducing myself, but we've failed to ever learn his number or which apartment he lives in. Therefore we attached a note to our door saying we would like to go bowling soon and would like him to join, and we received a note back saying that sounded delightful and giving us a phone number. The Addisons will prevail in our efforts to turn NYC into a charming Southern town!

I've also reconciled with a friend, worked on an exercise in class where you grab hands with your partner (only after you feel a connection!) and then release back saying either 'yes' or 'no', creating a tug-of-war type activity between two people shouting the same words to each other over and over again. And I had a breakdown in rehearsal as we talked about how we could define loss in our own lives. But most of that is just normal AADA. We've been working on Exam Plays since I've been back, and I've got to say it is refreshing to be working on an actual show again.

I've also just realized that I haven't had ice cream since I've been back in the city, which is quite something in and of itself.

It hasn't been the easiest of times. I've been to the very edge of darkness and back (pardon the cliche), experiencing for the first time in my own life what could only be called spiritual warfare. It's been a fight. But it's getting better. And most of that comes from making a simple choice- to believe and have faith. My entire life really, but particularly for the last two years, I have lived with the belief that I was created for a reason, that I had a divine purpose, and that the life I was living was taken step by step with God. To go through a period of having to question whether any of that was real or not... it's not fun. And when my faith stopped making sense, everything stopped making sense. To wonder whether there was actually a greater meaning...

I began to realize that either I had my faith and I chose to put my trust in it again, or I had nothing. And nothingness seemed like an awful scary thing to face. So I prayed. I went to the word. I told God that if He was real and if He cared, He was going to have to show me.

Did he? Not exactly... at least not in some world-shaking, Hallelujah Chorus way. It was a bit more subtle than that. He caused me to look at his word in a deeper way than I had before. He caused me to reopen my little book of verses I'd just happened to start keeping this year, and he began to reveal himself again:

"My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience."- James 1:2-3

"For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal."- 2 Corinthians 4:17-18

"Yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up on wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary."- Isaiah 40:31

"Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in Heaven but you? And Earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but GOD is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."- Psalm 73:23-26

"Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid nor be dismayed for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."- Joshua 1:9

And it began to get better. I began to have peace again. I realized that it is much better to believe.

Now, I'm realistic (God help us all, Jay's become a realist!). I know that bad days have come during this time too, and there will be more. Some days I still wake up and nothing is right: I'm too ugly, I have no talent, nobody really likes or respects me, I'm all alone, it doesn't make sense, it's not fair, I got cheated, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! Today itself threatened to be one of those days. But at a certain point I just refused to give myself over to it, and I think that's going to be my new goal for each of those days. Take a deep breath and find the good. If I can't, put on a happy face anyway. This world is not worth facing alone. So I have to believe. If that makes me an foolish, weak in your eyes... honestly, I couldn't care less what you think.

I'm making a new playlist on my ipod, and giving it a new name: Hope.