Second Blooming

Grownup Problems

One Friday, a couple of months ago, I booked a commercial which shot in New York.

WOOHOO! Nothing better than being paid to travel. And it's a commercial which should air a lot, fingers crossed. And they take really good care of you on these jobs - first class travel, a meaty per diem, nice hotel, ground transportation. I was rather excited. I could see my girlfriend Lannyl, take in a museum all by myself, go out to dinner with Aunt Grace. JUST what I needed, in every way! 

My only concern was...

I have two volunteer jobs at Jude's school. 

1. I am co-chair of the Booster Club. We fund-raise for the Athletics Department by running/stocking/staffing the snack bar in the gym during any home games. It's far more work than you'd guess. And I am completely obsessed with it. I actually have anxiety dreams that we've run out of the blue Gatorades, or that nobody bought the seaweed snacks which I insisted on getting as a "healthful alternative". 
2. Bingo Night. One night a year. I get the equipment, set it up, organize the games and prizes, and run the show. 

I was supposed to leave for New York on Wednesday and return on Saturday. During those four days, I had three home games in the gym and...Bingo Night.

Great. So I went into high gear to get myself covered. Not easy. But I could do it if I got super organized and delegated efficiently.

Then on Saturday morning...

Jude and I got home from his 7 to 9 am swim practice (oh yes, that happens every week...) just as Jimmy was about to leave to drive to Beverly Hills to meet a friend for coffee. Jude says hi to his dad and jumps into the shower to wash off the chlorine. Jimmy turns to me as he's walking out the door.

JIMMY

Hey. So I'm meeting Devin. Can you give me some cash for

the parking? They always eobguahs;dffkvuaw'gweilkalk

gwogslk/lzsdlgjdlfjsdkflsskflsakjfllkasjfksffjlsfjalsjf.

GRETCHEN

What?

JIMMY

Dvmnak;fjhsdhf'lasdlfkjlskdfjlsa;kjdf;lkajl;sdkjf;laksdjfll

asdglhsa;dlkfhl;afkj;aslkdjf;laskjdf;lksajdfl;kjasadllfkjas.

Gretchen calmly lifts her phone and dials 911.

GRETCHEN

(to Jimmy)

You need to sit down. Something's wrong with you.

JIMMY

(indignant)

Eiasddv;akng;kv;dk sdkfja;lskdjgl;sdkhg;alkds?

GRETCHEN

(to Emergency Operator)

Hello. I think my husband's having a stroke.

He was.

For 12 years now, I have complained that we live two blocks from a fire station, and have to deal with the constant wail of sirens. I will never complain again. Those guys were here within a minute. They accessed the situation, took his vitals, loaded him into the ambulance, and were about to drive away when I realized that Jude was still in the shower. It went down that fast. And with strokes, Time = Brain. The more time passes before treatment, the more brain is damaged.

I found someone to leave Jude with, then rushed down and met them at the emergency room. They got him there, ran him through a CAT scan, and started pumping him with drugs. As it was explained to me, this miracle drug they gave him works like Draino. It just powers its way through the bloodstream and clears out anything blockages. Luckily, we got him there quickly enough for this Draino to do its job well.

The brain is very interesting. Apparently, Jimmy had a number of small strokes on the left side of his brain, the area which controls speech. And language/speech was the only area damaged. He had no drooping of one side of his face or issues with movement. He just temporarily lost the ability to speak and connect with language. It's at this point that I should remind everyone that Jimmy is an actor, and an acting teacher. So speech? Important.

A crowd of neurologists kept coming in and hovering around him, asking questions. They had a written list of words which they kept making him say out loud. "Huckleberry". "Fifty-fifty". When he first got to the ER, these came out "Hlvrono;e;lvlk" and "Frvnj-veflve". Then after about an hour on the Draino they became "Hookklbuuey" and "Vivity-Vifffffy". By the time they decided he could safely be moved out of the ER to a room, he could say the words, but only with great effort and concentration. He had aphasia. Which basically means the loss of the ability to understand or express speech. But he would heal quickly, and the doctors were certain that he'd have a full recovery.

The man was damned lucky. I mean, really, really lucky. If Jude and I had gotten home two minutes later, we would have missed him and he'd have been in his car driving to Beverly Hills when he had the stroke, instead of speaking right to my face. All the doctors kept going on about how lucky he was. I guess it's not very common that someone has a stroke while somebody's actually standing right in front of them and able to call 911 within seconds. One doctor actually told him he should do some soul-searching about God and the meaning of life, because somebody was clearly watching out for him. The other doctor suggested that the person watching out for him was HIS WIFE. I think it was a combo.

He had to stay in the hospital for two days so they could make sure he wasn't going to have another stroke. He will be on blood thinners for the rest of his life, and he has to seriously be good about his diet and exercise. I have now purchased FOUR Mediterranean Diet cookbooks. But for the most part he's expected to be fine, and his speech is back to normal.

Did I spend the next three days comforting my sick husband and son (who was being very stoic but was probably scared to death)? No. I spent the next three days freaking out about Bingo Night/Snack Bar/Work trip to New York. Because I now not only had to find people to take over all my damned volunteer jobs, I had to leave my 12-year old home in charge of his father who'd had a stroke. It's times like this when one truly appreciates friends. After all, it takes a village. A gang of excellent women swooped in and brought them meals and managed driving Jude to school. All sorts of blessings here.

Jimmy's well, the trip was great, the commercial a success, and Jimmy, Jude, Bingo Night and the Snack Bar survived without me. 

Oh, and everyone has to remember...DON'T TELL MOMMY! Jimmy's parents don't know about the stroke, and absolutely can't. Seriously, it might actually kill Mommy. Ignorance is bliss. 

So that happened.

The other day I was talking to my childhood friend Flavia about Jimmy's stroke, her aging mother's health, and the endless planning for her daughter's upcoming wedding and she suddenly asked "When did we get all these grownup problems?" It's true, right? When did this happen? I clearly remember the days when my biggest worries were what to wear that day and if some guy liked me. 

So that's what I've been doing lately. Taking care of grownup problems. I'll try to do better with my blogging.

 

Gretchen's Very Own Adventure: Part Dos

Saludos desde Madrid!

According to Google Translate, that means "Greetings from Madrid!" I wouldn't know, because my Spanish is muy, muy bad. But luckily, everybody here in Madrid is muy, muy nice, and smiles patiently while I try to make myself clear using my phone app and mucho hand gestures. 

Madrid is so cool! It's beautiful and cosmopolitan and friendly and modern and ancient. Sort of like New York, except older and everybody speaks Spanish. I am loving it! 

So far, I haven't done a lick of work, just wandered around and looked at things and eaten a lot of ham. Who could ask for more? I spent FIVE hours at the Prado Museum, two hours at the Museo Reina Sofia (modern art), and several hours looking at churches and palaces and stuff. I had dinner both last night and the night before with some of the other actresses here for the shoot - they are all terrific. Today they sent me for a manicure at an uber-lovely salon, Tomorrow, I actually shoot the commercial, so tonight I'm laying low and going to sleep early.

Here are my impressions of Spain thus far...

Spaniards love pork.

That's right, the Ham Museum. They have these all over town.

Pork, pork, pork.

Considering bringing a ham home in my suitcase. Maybe not?

Little funnels of meat to-go.

I found the perfect meal.

While wandering around looking at old things, I rounded a corner and found this...

A chocolateria! And what do they serve at this chocolateria?

That is a big bowl of chocolate and a plate of fresh churros. YES!!

Spanish men are very attractive.

And willing to flirt with middle-aged women. Don't tell Jimmy I said this.

Madrid has a weirdly large number of dead-kings-on-horses statues.

La paella es muy deliciosa!

Why don't I ever make paella? It's totally up my alley. All I can think of is that long, long ago, when I first moved to LA, there was this smarmy guy who kept asking me out and saying that he wanted me to come to his apartment because I had to try his paella. Eww. I have hereby upgraded my thoughts on paella.

People should really run things by someone who speaks the language before printing something on a mug.

 

Okay, that's all for now from Madrid. I'll check back in after my shoot. Adios!

 

Gretchen's Very Own Adventure: Part One

I'm always hearing about some actress or another who books a great location job. An acting gig that involves traveling to some fabulous and romantic location - Europe, South America, a cruise. It's one of the best perks of our business, actually getting paid to travel. And I'm telling you, we get treated well - first class plane tickets, all expenses paid. Very cool.

But in all of my 25 or so years as a working actress, with the exception of two months I spent in Israel back in 1989, I have only booked the most pathetic location jobs imaginable. Palmdale. Which is the meth capital of California. I think they put me up at a Motel 6. Riverside, California. Slight upgrade to a Holiday Inn. And I was flown twice, yes, twice, to...Minneapolis. In the middle of winter. Sad. That was the extent of my location jobs.

Until now.

Today, I am flying to shoot a commercial in...Spain. Yes, it's true!! At this very moment, I am sitting in my first class seat enjoying my wifi and a glass of complementary champagne. Hehehehehe! I'm so excited I'm about to bust. I'm flying from LA to New York, then changing planes and heading across the Atlantic (I've got an Ambien burning a hole in my pocket) and in the morning I'll be in Madrid. I then have THREE days off before I shoot for one day, and then head home. Can you stand it?

What commercial is it? I don't think I'm supposed to say. They didn't make me sign a non-disclosure agreement or anything, but it's kind of a no-no to blab about unaired commercials on social media. Suffice it to say, it's a pharmaceutical company, and I will be talking about my pain, which I no longer have because I use their drug. I'm telling you, these pharmaceutical companies have ALL the money in the world. I know how much they paid for these plane tickets, and it would have paid for Jude's private school for a year! And the craziest part is that they're not even shooting me out and about enjoying the sites of Spain. I'm in an office. They could have shot this thing in...Palmdale. But somebody at the drug company, or the ad agency must have wanted a trip to Europe, and damn if I didn't luck out!

But this was not the first part of my adventure. Oh no. Last week, they flew me to New York for A DAY for a WARDROBE FITTING. Because they don't have clothes in LA or Spain. (Where's that sarcasm font when I need it?) They flew me first class to NYC and put me up at a rather ritzy hotel down in the Meatpacking District, which is the in/hip area of the city right now. The wardrobe fitting took all of 2 hours.

I felt slightly bad about missing Jude's school's annual fundraiser/live auction, but guess where I went when I was in New York? To my friend Lannyl's kid's school's annual fundraiser/live auction! Is that crazy? It just happened to be that her school's party was the night I got to NY, and she and her husband have a band, a group of parent-musicians, and they were playing the party. I have to say, I had always thought that Jude's school's community was pretty fancy schmancy, and the bids in the auction were outrageous. But we are NOTHING compared to these Manhattan families! Turns out we're not fancy schmancy, we're just plain fancy. These folks were paying $48,000 for pieces of art! And I thought $50 for a Hello Kitty gift basket was a good auction bid. 

I am hoping that Jimmy and Jude will be fine without me. I have written out ridiculously detailed instructions with a full calendar for the kid and a full page of phone numbers of friendly moms if they need help. Jimmy seems confident. Jude, however, suggested that when I get home I'll find Jimmy sprawled on the sofa dead of dehydration, and Jude dead on the floor of the kitchen, his arms outstretched as he was crawling his way to the refrigerator (he acted all this out with great aplomb), with Fancy eating his leg. Wish them luck.

Oh, I'd better go. The flight attendant has just taken away my hot towel, and is bringing me my beef tenderloin. I think I'll just adjust my seat and turn on the massage feature. Teeheehee. I'll check back in from Spain.

Spin Cycle: Winging It

One of the peculiar side-effects of being in the acting business is that you never knows what you'll be doing on any given day. Ever.

I make plans, but everything is contingent on whether or not I get an audition or a job for that day and time. Normally, we're given the details of an audition the night before, but often it's the same day, and I will suddenly have to scramble to rearrange and make things work as best I can. Plans often get scrapped.

In addition to this day-to-day improvisation, we also never know when/if we'll get a job. We have no idea how much money we'll make in any given year. We can't budget. We can't schedule. We have no game plan.

It has suddenly occurred to me that this is not normal.

I hear people say things like "we checked our budget and figured out exactly how much we could spend" and I don't have a clue what that's even like. For us, if we have the money, we can afford it, and if we don't have the money, we can't. That's not to say that there's ever a time when we truly don't have any money, because we're compulsive savers. We save and invest and mutual fund. What we don't always have is income. So the rule is that if we don't have any money coming in, we can't spend anything. A good year is one in which we have been able to add to the savings, and a bad year is when we've had to eat into it.

And the planning thing can be a problem. People will ask me if we're available to do something a few months away, and I just shrug. Who knows? If something is important, we can "book out" with our agents, which basically means that they won't submit us for any jobs that shoot during the "book out" dates. But that means that we're missing possible job opportunities, and believe me, we don't want to miss out on any opportunities.

So we usually try to just wait until the last minute and then kind of...wing it. Instead of having a game plan, we just have an...outline that we try to follow.

Jimmy has a cousin who plans out every detail of everything she does. It fascinates me. She'll plan vacations far ahead of time, and have detailed itineraries of every activity they will do. I try to do this for our vacations. I swear I do. I attempt to make decisions and plans and reservations, and I just can't do it. It's as if I've gotten so used to winging it, that I can't do otherwise.

I'm thinking this can't be a good thing. It's crazy stressful. It can't be good for the health, right? I think about people who have a regular salary and envy them so much! To actually know how much money you're going to make seems amazing. To know exactly which two weeks you will have off and be able to schedule a vacation for which you budgeted. Wow. To be able to actually promise your kid that you will do something with him and know that you won't have to welsh on your promise? Brilliant.

On the other hand...

It's never the same old same old. Not knowing what you're going to do tomorrow makes life a bit of an adventure. We constantly improvise. It's not boring. It can be trying, but never boring.

So there you have it. I guess I'm a winging it junkie. While I love the idea of security and constancy, I think that in reality, it would make me...bored. Sigh.

What are you? A game planner or a winger?

___________________________________

 

Check out our other Super Bowl Speak spinners (I was "Game Plan", what did the others choose?)

Come back on Monday for Ginny Marie and my Spin Cycle topic for next week!

 

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Spin Cycle: Word of the Year

Here's what I need to do in 2014...

I need to focus all of my mental and spiritual energy on writing my book and making some money. The money could be made through writing the book, or by any other means which are available to me, hopefully acting. I am sick and tired of not having time to write and of not having any money. Not that money would make everything perfect, but it would certainly make life easier, which would allow me more time to...write. 

So I've been trying to pick a Word of the Year to inspire me toward this goal. My first thought was "Focus". But I feel like there's a slightly negative side to that, sort of assuming that I'm not focusing at all - "Pay attention, woman!". I wanted to find an even more specific word, a word that would make me channel all of my aforementioned mental and spiritual energy, make me super focused.
And so I have chosen as my Word of 2014...

LASER

A laser beam of energy coming straight from my brain, cutting through all the extraneous bull of my life and pointed at what I need to do. I looked up "laser" in the dictionary and it said "a devise that produces...a coherent beam of light by exciting atoms to a higher energy level and causing them to radiate their energy in phase." Yes! That's it! That is what I need.

And so here is the promised acrostic. It's less of a poem and more of a declaration. I think I'll print it out and tape it on a cabinet in the kitchen to read every day...

Learn to prioritize.Time to write and work has to be my top priority.

Accept occasional mediocrity.It’s okay if some things are not done perfectly well. No one cares if my house is perfectly clean, or the meals are perfectly prepared.

Say no.This is one of the hardest things for me. Every time anyone asks me to help them, I say “yes”.  It’s almost pathological. I must pick and choose what I agree to take on.

Everybody can take care of themselves a little more.I don’t have to be the caretaker of every damned person I know. Jimmy can cook a meal every now and then, and Jude is capable of doing his homework on his own.

Resist the nonsense that derails me.While a certain amount of silly game playing does help me to relax, I must resist the need during the middle of time I could be writing to check on my crops in Farmville or give Homer a new task in Tapped Out. And by the way, I need more Tapped Out neighbors, so if any of you play it, let me know and I’ll email you my user name!

So that's it. LASER. I have now actually printed it out and fixed it to the wall. I hope it helps me.

Please check out Ginny Marie and the other Word of the Year spinners!

 

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Spin Cycle: 2013 - The Highlights

When Ginny Marie first suggested that we make this first Spin Cycle post of 2014 about the highlights of the past year, I became a little...depressed. It just felt like there was absolutely nothing that happened in 2013 that I would consider a "highlight". I didn't feel that I'd accomplished anything noteworthy or interesting, that I've just been plodding along on the same-old/same-old futile path. I looked back at last year's New Year's resolutions post, and discovered that of my resolutions for the year, I had accomplished exactly ZERO of them. ZERO.

But when I went back through my posts from the last year, I realized that there were quite a few things that happened which I would consider "good". Some of them even "quite good". Maybe this is a lesson for me to learn from, instead of looking back on the things I didn't do, look at the things I did do. It may not have been the year I had hoped for, but it was the year it was, filled with quite a few good and unexpected events.

Month of blogging - Last April 11th, which is just the most random date I could have chosen, I embarked upon a month of daily blogging. My thought had been that I was stuck in a blogging rut, and needed to think out of the box to find inspiration, so I forced myself to blog every single day for a month. And guess what? It worked. I wrote some of my most interesting posts of the year during that time, and definitely shook loose some preconceived notions I had about what I "had" to do. I'm thinking I should do it again this year at some point.

Carnegie Hall - I performed in Carnegie Hall, y'all! I really did. Well, my choir, of which I am but a minor member, performed Mozart's Requiem there along with several other choirs under the direction of Joe, our choral director. It really was a once-in-a-lifetime, goose bump-inducing experience, which I will never forget.

My friend Gwen and me at the stage door.

If you squint, you can see me - back row (tall girls are always on the back row, sigh...) third from the right.

Jude found his passion - The boy has finally found his favorite thing in the world. LA County Junior Lifeguards.

We seem to be raising a California boy!

It's a total mind/body experience for the kid - he runs, he swims, he paddleboards, he surfs, he learns how to save lives, he learns ocean safety, he learns CPR! From now on, his summer will be arranged around JGs.

Partnering with Ginny Marie - In September, after much thought and soul-searching, I decided that if I was going to continue hosting The Spin Cycle, I needed to get a partner. I had reached a point where I was completely unable to spend the time necessary on promoting the whole thing. And man, did I make a good choice. Ginny Marie has been a massive infusion of energy and inspiration! And here's a gigantic "Welcome!" to the new Spinners which she has brought in. Well done!

Emmys - I had SUCH a good time when I went to The Emmys as my friend Lynn's date! The glamour! The celebrities! The free food and booze!

Lynn and me, looking glam on the red carpet.

Oh, and did I mention that I shook hands with Louie C.K.? Oh yes, I did that.

Modern Family - After a ten year mothering hiatus from television, I booked a job! On Modern Family, no less. Yes it was a small part, yes I now look old and fat, but I don't care, it was great fun and I worked with terrific people who I respect tremendously! Lets hope I get more work soon!

Me, in my trailer.

Thirteen Chapters - The main reason I've been so absent and distracted lately is that I'm writing a book. I know that everybody says this, but I really am, and I'm finally at a place where I'm feeling pretty good about it. I have now written 13 chapters. I recently went back and rewrote and restructured quite a bit, and am now on a path that I'm happy about, and am moving forward at a decent pace. It's all I want to do. I find myself thinking about it constantly, and stealing moments to work. Ah, to be able to go off alone to a cabin somewhere for about a week! But alas, not possible. But I think that 13 chapters is something to be proud of. By next year at this time, lets hope it's finished!

So there you have it. The highlights of my year. Not as bad as I'd first thought. But definitely room for improvement next year!

Here's to an excellent 2014 for all of us!

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Work

So...do y'all remember a couple of weeks ago when I wrote a post about acting, and mentioned that I felt it was time that I got back into tv work? Maybe actually trying to have a career again instead of just doing commercial? My quote was "Time to act again."

Well, talk about sending a thought out into the universe and having it answered.

The very next week, I shot an episode of Modern Family. Yes, that's right.

It's just a small role, one scene, but it is on Modern Family, which is pretty damned good. And I think it's going to be funny. I play Kathy, a woman having a girl's night in a bar with her friend Marcy. Marcy is the sweet one, Kathy is the nasty one. I must say, it's more fun being the nasty one.

 

Me with Renee Albert, who plays my pal Marcy.

 

The scene is with Ed O'Neill, Ty Burrell and Fred Willard, who plays Phil's dad.  They were all extremely relaxed and welcoming, really nice guys. In fact, the entire crew was terrific. And why shouldn't they be, they'd just won an Emmy for Best Comedy Series, so I'm guessing some bonuses were being spread around.

Here's my very nice trailer...

 

My sofa that I never actually sat on.

If y'all want to watch, please do. It's airing this Wednesday, October 23 on ABC. So set your DVRs. And don't blink, because you'll miss me.

I hereby send out into the cosmos that I would like MORE work please. Let's see if the universe is listening.

Spin Cycle: The Freefall

We actors are a brave bunch of people.

I think that most non-actors think that actors are courageous because they are able to get up and perform in front of people, and remember lines or whatever. And while that can certainly be bold and daring, I know that the most difficult task an actor faces, the thing that requires the most bravery is in revealing oneself, forcing yourself to face your innermost demons, your darkest, ugliest fears, and reveal them to strangers. It's unbelievably dangerous and compromising.

It isn't easy. But if you can do it, if you can really open yourself up, really "go there", an amazing thing happens. It's the closest thing to magic that I've ever experienced. It's as if your life and the life of the character kind of...meld, and reality and make-believe become one. It's...alchemy. And when that happens, it's an unbelievable feeling - completely freeing and joyful, even if it's painful, it's joyful. It tears you apart and yet it makes you feel amazingly alive. And it's completely addicting.

I'm afraid it doesn't happen often, these magical moments. Most of what we do is simple and fun. Someone once told me that when they worked with Henry Fonda, they noticed that Fonda had written all over his script. There were some pages where he had written copious notes and thoughts, then other pages where he'd simply written "NAR". My friend asked Fonda what NAR meant, and Fonda answered "No acting required." And that kind of sums it up. Pages and pages of NAR, but then there's a place where you have to come up with the stuff, to "go there". And when you do, it's just so amazing that you find yourself living for the next one.

I clearly remember the very first time it happened to me. I was in my high school one-act play competition. We were doing a production of The Trojan Women by Euripides, a seriously dramatic piece, and kind of a silly play for a bunch of teenagers to tackle. I played Andromache, the widow of Hector, and during the play, I not only mourn the death of my husband and the end of Troy, but my small son is dragged away and put to death. It's good stuff, much keening and wailing. In the middle of our performance at "Regionals" I had a moment. I was trying to comfort the women of Troy, and I turned to my friend Naomi, who was part of the Greek chorus, and I remember reaching out and touching her face, something I'd never done before, and suddenly...I was there. I was there in Troy, surrounded by death and ruin, and my brave husband who I had adored had been killed and all I knew and loved was being taken away from me. And I grabbed Naomi, and we held each other and cried and it was...real. And I was hooked. I happened to win a statue for "Best Actress" for that performance too, not that it mattered, the reward was in the doing.

Twelve years ago, I did a play here in LA, a stage version of They Shoot Horses, Don't They? I played the Jane Fonda part, if you remember the movie. It was the lead role, and I was on stage for the entire 2 hours of the play. During those two hours, I danced almost constantly (it's about a 1930's dance marathon), fell in love, was raped and at the end, killed myself. Good stuff. But at the beginning of the show, just before the curtain went up, I used to visualize myself on the edge of a cliff, and as the lights went up, I jumped. And the next two hours I was freefalling. I loved it.

 

Me in "They Shoot Horses...", mid-freefall.

 

It doesn't only happen in dramatic roles. A while back I did a little film called Family Tree, and in it my character got stoned and had this long, really inappropriate laughing fit at her family's Thanksgiving dinner. It got so caught up in it that I couldn't stop laughing for hours, long after the shot was over. I was weeping with laughter, my sides ached.

 

Me, with Harland Williams in "Family Tree".

 

Actors live for a role that allows them to go into freefall and feel the alchemy. And when you get one, you become extremely attached to the character - ending the run of a play or wrapping a movie feels like a death in the family. Truly.

It's been quite a while since I've felt it. Since Jude was born, I've done almost nothing but commercials, and believe me, no alchemy is happening on a commercial set. And I miss it. I do. Interestingly, I think that writing this blog has helped me to not miss the acting as much. There's a certain level of raw honesty and vulnerability about blog writing that fulfills a bit of the need for danger that actors become used to.

I think it might be time, though. Time to act again. I've been dabbling. Maybe a play. I'll let you know.

Or I guess I could always take up skydiving.

_________________________________

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Red Carpet

I'm so excited! You know I must be excited if I'm actually posting a blog post on a Saturday, I'm usually far too lazy to do such a thing.

For years now, I've been my friend Lynn's backup Emmys date, the friend she takes when her husband, Darren can't make it. Lynn's the Music Consultant for the Primetime Emmy Awards, which basically means she oversees the award's five music categories (Outstanding Original Music and Lyrics, Outstanding Original Main Title Theme, etc.), so every year she gets to go to both the Creative Arts Emmys and the Primetime Emmys. Though Darren has his cummerbund and tuxedo ever at the ready to go as her escort, a couple of times over the years, I have been asked to jump into the escort position when Darren was tied up. Both times I went with her it was for the Creative Arts Emmys, the "red-headed stepchild" of the Primetime Emmys, the award show where they hand out Emmys to all of the crew - Art Direction, Editing, Visual Effects, Costume Design, Hair, Makeup, Music Direction, Cinematography...you get the idea.

But guess what? Darren had an operation on his shoulder on Friday, so I get to go to the Primetime Emmys tomorrow! Woohoo! Okay, that's not nice is it? Poor, poor Darren. How very unfortunate that he had to have a terrible operation, which must be very painful and...oh who am I fooling...woohoo, Darren had an operation and I'm in!

I spent the last day fretting and worrying about what to wear, and after FIVE friends letting me try on all of their formal wear, I have decided to wear an old dress of mine that kinda/sorta still fits me if I squeeze my body into a sausage casing of foundational undergarment.

Not that anybody will be looking at me. Even though Lynn and I are going to the show, we aren't exactly walking the red carpet. I mean, we don't have a limo dropping us off, we're just driving in Lynn's Prius and then hoofing it from the parking structure. But the seats are orchestra seats, so we should get a good view, and at the Governor's Ball afterwards, we are sitting at the Governor's table! I don't exactly know who the Governors are, but Lynn apparently has an "in" with them, and it sounds very fancy.

The Governor's Ball, by the way, is really fun, with EXCELLENT food, plentiful free martinis and goodie bags. And lots of celebrities to have brushes with. Here are my goals for the evening...

1. Have just enough free martinis to enjoy myself, but not enough to make a fool of myself (see #2)
2. Stalk Louis C.K. But not in a creepy way. Maybe I could say "hi" or maybe I could share a smile or maybe I could just touch the back of his tuxedo without his even realizing it. Okay, that is kind of creepy. I'll let you know what I do after a certain amount of martinis.
3. If I see someone who I worked with back when I had a career, I am going to try to just say "Hello, how have you been?" instead of hiding and pretending I don't know who they are. There was a time when I thought I'd be going to the Emmys as a nominee, and I fear that it is far less glamorous to be going as my friend Lynn's backup date. But I am happy to be going, and proud of Lynn's accomplishments and proud to be her escort. Plus, you know, free martinis.

I am planning on live Tweeting my Emmy experience. So if you want to share my dubious experience, follow me @secondblooming. I'll let you know if I touch Louis C.K. Or anybody else. That was creepy, right?

The Rose Lady

For a brief time, back in the summer of 1991, when I was a struggling actress in Los Angeles, I had the worst job in the world. Okay, maybe not THE worst job in the world. It didn't involve road kill, or cleaning sewers or anything. But it was everything I could hate in a job all rolled into one. I will explain...

When I first moved to Los Angeles, I started working pretty steadily as an actress. When I had lived in Dallas, I had worked in a book store and as a nanny, but since moving to LA, I was lucky enough that I'd never had to have a "day job".

But for a while there, things dried up. I was broke. I could probably have asked Mama for the cash to tide me over until I booked another tv gig, but I just couldn't do it. I was 30, for God's sakes, I should have been able to take care of myself.

So I started to hunt for a part-time job. This is a problem for the actor. You have to find a job that is flexible enough to allow you to go to auditions whenever they need you during the day, often at the last minute, and on the other side of town.

But the biggest problem was that I had...no marketable skills. None.

I could sort of type, and thought I could maybe do temp work. But temp jobs weren't flexible enough, and I was auditioning quite a bit. I drove around the neighborhood filling out job applications at stores and restaurants.

One restaurant manager actually called me in for a meeting, not to hire me, but just because he'd never met anybody honest enough to to write "No waitressing experience" on a job application.

Finally, a woman I knew from a comedy improv class told me about a job which sounded doable. No experience necessary. Worked only weekend nights, and you could make a couple of hundred dollars a week.

And so I became...a rose lady.

You've seen them. My job was to fill my car with cheap roses, then drive around the city to restaurants and clubs and stroll around the places, hawking my wares to unsuspecting patrons at outrageous prices.

The woman who owned the company (who happened to be a Scientologist, and I was one of her only non-Scientologist employees), had made deals with certain restaurants to allow us in - I guess they got some kind of a kick-back. I had to dress up in a frilly white blouse with a ridiculous amount of cleavage, and tight black pants, then carry a massive, rose-laden basket around with me. I offered three rose options - the single rose, the small bouquet of 3 roses, and the large bouquet of 6, which cost a whopping $20.

The idea was to walk slowly around the restaurant, and while we were not allowed to actually flat-out ask anyone if they'd like to make a purchase, we were allowed to stare intimidatingly. Then once some poor sap, in an attempt to impress his date, asked to make a purchase, I could pounce. The idea was to insinuate that only a pathetic cheapskate would purchase his ladylove the single rose. And that certainly she would be more willing to put-out later if he went for the big bouquet.

Apparently, there was much bickering and jockeying for the good restaurants amongst my fellow rose ladies, who I only saw when picking up roses at the beginning of the night, and dropping off the leftovers at the end. But they all liked me, because I had no interest at all in the good restaurants. I wanted to be working the most obscure, far-off-the-beaten-path restaurants possible, in hopes that I would NEVER run into anyone I knew.

So I took the route deep in the valley. I drove from Sherman Oaks all the way out to places like La Puente, El Monte and West Covina. These are places where you expect to happen upon a body dump.I started the evening at family restaurants, and ended it at discos and country-western bars.

I hated it. I hated it deeply and painfully. First of all, I am a POOR salesperson. And the thought of pushing some poor dude on a date into spending all his money on some cheap roses just made me weak. I felt so guilty.

I did make a few bucks. But I felt like a whore.

Finally, after about two months, I booked a recurring role on the tv show Wings, and quit the rose ladying so fast it would have made your head spin. In one day, I went from pimping roses to kissing Tim Daly. Such is the business.

I tell this story as a cautionary tale to any young actors heading to Los Angeles without any marketable skills. DON'T DO WHAT I DID! Have a backup job just in case!

And sadly, the smell of roses always takes me right back there. Damn. The smell of humiliation.

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This post was inspired by...

 

 

Prompt #4 - Tell us about a job you quit...why did you do it?