Mara walks into the shore of NEVERLAND and is greeted by PETER PAN.
Mara: (upset) Why didn't you tell me? Peter: Tell you what? What's wrong? Mara: I hate being an adult. Peter: Oh. Well I did tell you. Mara: Yes, but you didn't specify WHY it sucks so much to be an adult. Peter: What's happening? Mara: Just ugh, life. Can't I stay with you? Peter: I'm afraid that's not possible. Mara: Why not? Peter: You're already a grown-up. Mara: I don't feel like it! Peter: You can't change the past. Mara: Can you just let me off the hook for once? Peter: I'm sorry Mara. Mara: I don't wanna leave. Peter: You shouldn't dwell on the past. You've made a decision just do it. Mara: You're starting to sound like everyone else! Ugh, can I at least talk to Tink? Tink appears with a wide smile across her face. Mara starts to feel woozy and wakes up in her apt. Mara: (to no one) It just feels like...like a vacuum is continuously sucking my insides out and it's this dizzying feeling that I know will never go away. Mara gets up and leaves for the day. How sad. End of Play.
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I'm going to be very vague. If you know me, you may know what I'm talking about, if not then it's alright just follow. I need to vent... Earlier this week: I was blankly starting at a door as I stood in this beautiful place. The weather was perfect and I was surrounded by beautiful people. It seemed unreal, almost like a dream but also a bit like a nightmare. I carried on with my day, at the same place, and tried to do things right. I didn't want to mess up. However as the day slowly continued, the same five words kept going through my mind: "So it's come to this?" And every time I'd think that, I'd laugh. I don't belong here, I don't know if it's worth my time. It's not my thing but luckily I can fake being good at it. I'm sure I can be honest here, but I don't wanna risk it, you know? I need to embrace change. Whether it's a new set of friends, a new job, or even a new place to live. I was told earlier this week that I'm not the type of person that enjoys changes, in fact, I fear them. She wasn't wrong, I do fear change. So what do I gotta think about when I'm at this spot? How can I keep being motivated? How can you? Well first thing's first...if I don't embrace change then nothing happens, and if nothing happens then I don't achieve my dreams. Every day there's no change is a day you're stuck in a reality you don't like living. Stay positive friends, success is being able to go through from one failure to the next. As strange as it may, or may not, sound I always think about what would happen if I was the last woman on Earth? I mean sure, I'd get action but I feel like death would come soon after. What would happen? I'd feel obligated to get pregnant and re-populate. But then I'd have to get pregnant at least a few times. And hopefully I'd give birth to girls and girls only. I feel like the world would go wild without women, but if I were surrounded by smart men, I'd feel like they'd keep me somewhere safe.
There's no worst feeling than waking up extremely late and having to be in Hollywood in 20 minutes. Getting anywhere in LA in under 30 minutes is damn near impossible, unless you live near everything. Anyway instead of panicking for a really long time, I decided to just lose it and call my boss and inform him I was arriving a little late. I wasn't a little late I was almost 30 minutes late. But the good thing about the job I was doing that day was that my part didn't really matter. Well my point being was that I didn't miss much, thank goody goodness. The thing about being late is that people remember that you're late. You're the late kid. And I already don't want to make a bad first impression on these people I work with because...I want to work again. I just accepted the fact that I was late and yelled, groaned, complained and cursed at every driver that drove by. Also, it's better to just be honest than come up with a "good," excuse because there isn't one. You can't use traffic because that's already a given. Can't really say your alarm didn't go off because if you think about it, it doesn't matter. You're already late, live with it, get there as soon as you can and as safely as you can. Meanwhile fast forward to the afternoon and I'm standing waiting for the audience members to arrive. I'm standing next to a security guard named Robert. Robert was very nice and social so we had a good time chatting while killing time til the next showing. After a while of talking we introduce each other's name, said nice to meet you and moved on with our respective jobs. Fast forward to that afternoon and Robert and I are talking to another person and he started it off by saying: "Myra right?" "Nope, Mara." "Oh right! Close enough. Man I ain't never heard of Mara before, that's an interesting name. Myra is like a common name though." Fast forward about thirty minutes, and the theater supervisor, Molly comes up to me while I'm gathering the line around the Egyptian Theatre. I was doing a good job so Molly thought to compliment me. "Great job Meira! You doing alright?" "Um...yep. Yeah I'm good." WHY IS MY NAME SO HARD TO REMEMBER? Like I understand that sometimes I need to enunciate better but come on! I can't wait for the day when I'm successful and people will hopefully get my name right. I mean at this point, it just feels like a loss of an identity. Not like a full on loss, but like, and I know it sounds weird, but I feel like I'm losing myself. It's like I don't exist. Anyway. Before I go deeper, I just want to take a moment and again be thankful for all the opportunities and be grateful for all the challenges. I'm the sperm that won, might as well appreciate the life. Besos. So it's 82 degrees in beautiful Los Angeles and I am miserable. I'm all about the sun but I ain't about the heat. Add LA traffic and apartment hunting to the mix and you have my worst afternoon.
What we want: a safe neighborhood where we can easily commute to Hollywood, Burbank, Silverlake, Dtla, etc. What we want: an affordable place...in LA. So fingers crossed! As i was making my third or fourth go at finding a parking space I was blocked by pedestrians from making a right turn. I know I'm the worst but pedestrians are annoying when you're driving. (And vice versa). Anyway. There was a man on a wheelchair struggling to cross the street when this other man going the opposite direction stopped. For sure I thought he was about to rob the poor guy but instead he pushed him. Now both of them aren't well off. They're not even middle class. They're both wearing dirty clothes just struggling to go on about life. But there it was. Kindness. The guy stopped and helped him across the street. I don't know I guess it just made me think. It made me stop being angry at all the traffic and it made me think. It made me a little ashamed. I don't show enough kindness or gratitude and I always complain about the world. It made me think: "shut the fuck up Mara." When I become financially successful I've dreamed of traveling the world and financially supporting my family. I've also thought about charity but I've always doubted that I will donate a lot. I'm being honest. I want to help but I'm cheap. I want to help. I feel sorry for the poor. I feel disgusting whenever I go out to the bars and see those people selling flowers getting plowed by drunk people just because they're trying to make a living. I know it's their choice but why does money mean so fucking much in this world. Maybe I'll be a doctor and give back that way. Maybe I'll grow up and stop being cheap. The 99-seat debacle has turned LA theater artists into some of the most ferocious, vicious fighters I’ve ever seen. It’s exciting, liberating and comforting. It’s good to know that we’re not going down without a fight. But it’s also very exhausting. It’s starting to feel like we’re the Chihuahuas in a litter full of St. Bernard’s. Let’s face it, theater would die if the law passes and if we had to pay actors minimum wage. We do theater, we like art, which in another language translates to: we’re poor. I can’t say much more about what’s going on with Equity because although it is my business, it is also none of my business. I don’t own a 99-seat theater, I’m my own corporation. My business is myself. There’s a lot wrong with theater, there’s a lot of horrible theater and I find myself watching a lot of them. It’s gotten to a point that whenever I’m lucky enough to get a comp ticket, I find myself complaining more than appreciating. I mean no disrespect, who doesn’t love a free ticket but sometimes a free ticket ain’t even worth it! It takes a lot to put up a show, and I find that money is everyone’s biggest obstacle. How do we fix this? Bigger theaters get funding from generous donors and corporate sponsors. The little guys and even more so—the independent guys (us, you, me) don’t get any. At least not right away. And if I’m being honest, and you’re an actor who’s on Equity’s side, you’re an idiot. I mean it. No take-backsies. I mean think about it, none of the little theaters can afford to hire you. There’ll be CTG and the Pantages and several other theaters, but your competition is a LOT steeper. Chances are, you suck and have nothing compared to your rivalries. But don’t feel bad too cause a lot of people suck. My point is you’re going to be competing with people who have got connections, and for the big guys like CTG you’ll be competing with highly acclaimed, celebrities. So really if you feel obligated to be paid minimum wage, have fun staying miserable at your day job for the rest of your life (in LA). Now let’s be real, I’m 23 and know little, maybe even nothing. I can hardly follow all the arguments on the Facebook groups and all the notifications are starting to get annoying. So let’s be rational and see what we all have in common. First thing’s first is that not everyone is a good actor—in a perfect world this would not be a problem. Second we need enough money to hire someone for each position in a production (lighting, scenic, sound, stage manager, etc)—again in a perfect world this would not be a problem. We would have plays written for the underdogs, the minority, have a diverse cast, and not cast a show based on looks. We would have real people on stage, because that would be great and much more relatable. I’m so sick of seeing ‘basic,’ yes, ‘basic,’ theater. It’s so unoriginal and boring. A lot of the exciting theater I see, the kind that blows my mind and alters my views on life…that magic happens in the 99-seat theaters. Again there’s still a lot of bad, but 99-seat theaters take the risks and sometimes the higher the risk the higher the reward. 99-seat theaters is where I get started, where I can get support, and where I can continue to produce art for the rest of my life. There are SO many more problems to solve in the theatrical world, but killing 99-seat theaters definitely isn’t one. Think of the future, white people in charge, think of what limitations you’re allowing and all the art that’s going to be wasted. I am so exhausted. I just watched Birdman, and it helped me realize something. We're all put on this Earth for whatever reason(s). Things happen in life for whatever reason(s), and as humans we do our best to live it happily. Some do our best to just survive. Setbacks happen and we try to think of it positively and move on. We say encouraging words to ourselves, to the universe, as a reminder that no matter what happens, life goes on. We learn from our mistakes and we should focus on the present and look forward to the future. We shouldn't dwell on the past because that is unnecessary energy and we shouldn't worry about the future, we should focus on today. As Erwin McManus once said, and I won't quote it cause I don't remember it word for word, he said that we shouldn't worry. We just shouldn't. We should deal with crisis when it happens, but we shouldn't worry about tomorrow, or yesterday because if we think about all the possibilities in the world, how on Earth are we going to get out of bed every morning? I've recently felt violated and it's hard for me to follow my own advice. And that's the million dollar question: how do we move on? Time? How can we not fear the future? I gotta tell yas, it was hard for me to eat for a whole day cause of this event that had happened. I let that get in the way. I'm going to take Erwin's advice, as well as the advice of my mother, family and friends: take it one step at a time. I'll try not to get too paranoid, cause I don't wanna be trippin. Sometimes I feel that when a tragedy occurs in life it really just is Act 1 of a rom-com. Sometimes I think that I'd find the one amidst all the craziness going on in life, and that all the 'bad guys' in life really do have a fair story on how they've become bad. I imagine forgiving the bad people in this scenario, which I know has been vague but I'd rather it be, and moving on. But then said person cannot move on because he falls in love with me. We then learn more about each other and fall in love and all troubles go away. The end. Sounds like a fucked up fairytale. In conclusion we all have that Birdman voice in our heads saying we're all not good enough. Look at yourselves in the mirror and give yourselves a lot of credit because if you're reading this it means you're still alive. That in enough itself is an accomplishment. One cold Saturday afternoon my iPhone vibrates and I receive an email from a man named "John Abrams," about a personal assistant job position. The first thing that popped into my mind was: "why is the second president of the United States emailing me?" And the second was: "oh great, another rejection letter." The email said that of all the people that had applied, my resume proved that I was above all else and that he, a renowned Canadian artist, would love to offer me the job. Since he is traveling the world for his art showcases he is not able to come to states and tend to his business...so that's where I come in. It's a 15-20 hour a week job and $500/week pay. WOW. $500/week. Finally. I could afford UCB Improv 101. I could afford rent. I could afford less anxiety. Times...are tough. They are hard, and not in the good kind of way. Hahaha... Anyway the whole thing was a SCAM! DUN DUN DUN! I guess that should've been obvious because he didn't call me in for an interview...BUT I WAS EXCITEDANDRELIEVEDWHATEVER! I felt poopy, to say the least. I can't find a job. I can't do the Hollywood Fringe. I can't find Love. wah wah wah. I know, I need to shut up. But instead of looking at the whole situation negatively (which I did for a day and half) I thought: hey I almost became Alex Vause. What Mr. Abrams was having me do was take care of his "art," and cash checks for him (which was not clear in his emails). I thought the extent of my job was running errands for him like buy him groceries, mail letters for him, buy art supplies, etc...what he really wanted me to do wash cash in these checks I received from the mail and have me steal all this money and transfer it to him, and I would keep $500 of whatever the amount he'd given me. I COULD HAVE BEEN ALEX VAUSE...in a way. Except thank God for mah home girl who saw and said, "honey you've been scammed," and I stopped everything before anything happened! Whew! But I mean...again, the bright side...I could have gotten laid in jail. Maybe. I know it isn't really a bright side. But if that jail had Taylor Schilling, Natasha Lyonne, Laura Prepon and Taryn Manning, who wouldn't want to get arrested? Again just to be clear: I want to be in Orange is the New Black. Season 4. It will happen. Anyway one last thing: THE DRESS IS WHITE AND GOLD. As of lately...I've been trying to be funny. I'm not trying, cause I am funny, but I'm trying to be funnier. I'm part of a new awesome improv team called "Second Choice," and so far I'm having a blast. However, going to rehearsals has proven one thing to me and that is...I'm a terrible listener and I forget things. I'm a 50 year-old man.
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AuthorI write, you read, we friends. Archives
November 2021
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