How to Return Home.

This song was written for a musical by the incredible team Kerrigan and Lowdermilk, and is referring to how one feel's going home for the first time during freshman year of college. I felt exactly this way then, I still feel the exact same way now, every time.  I think that anyone who has left home in search of something might agree with me:

Your bare feet sliding on the old wooden floorboards,

Home just as you left it but still you’re shaken,

Like walking into a museum somehow out of time.

It’s all the same except the girl in the hallway,

Where she’s been and who she will ripen into,

Your childhood’s on the other side of a sprawling divide… too wide.

Take a silent breath.

Hold in the change.

Tell yourself you still live here.

Take your bags upstairs.

It’s the only way you’ll get through today.

Count the hours.

Take a shower.

Wash yourself away.

The house is pulsing with an alien heartbeat,

Was it always here but you never listened?

It’s calling you to be the girl that you were way back then… again.

Put away your clothes, take it nice and slow.

Be their daughter.

Nothing’s harder

When nobody knows

How to return home.

How to return home

And how to survive,

There’s no written guidelines.

How to go back,

How to show up and unpack.

How to show up.

How to grow up.

How to take a breath.

You still share a name

But you’re not the same.

You don’t fight it.

You don’t hide it.

It’s a whole new game of how to return home.
(abridged)

I'm going back to Spokane for the first time since, er, (I don't actually recall) next week.  I'm already dreading the self righteous sixteen year old that will emerge from the tarmac at  GEG.  It's revertigo.  


PS:  Want to hear my fav B'way star, Laura Osnes' version?  

Terrible Twos.

{this is insanity. Don't I look ok?!}

Two Givens:

1: Internet communication is not ideal.
2: Communication itself is hardly ever received the way it was intended.

Still, two retarded exchanges:


1. Me: Hey! Was just thinking about you.  Where are you in this wide world?

2. Guy I Knew Once: Hi! I'm in Cali, and chillin.  Are you OK?

(loud record scratch).

Two reactionary thoughts:

1.  He's in Cali?  That's nuts.

2. WHAT DO YOU MEAN, "Am I OK"?!

There are two scenarios when a girl is asked if she "is OK":

1.  She is not, and assumes that this fairly obvious given that she is probably crying hysterically, in a rage, or curled up in the fetal position rocking herself.

2.  She is OK, and is thus offended that you insinuate that she isn't.

See, the rules of communication are clear and finite.

Disclaimer:  I have no romantic intentions toward this individual.  The problem was, he is memorably attached to a certain holiday in my brain, and when that time came this year, I was apparently overwhelmed with curiosity to find out what had become of him.  That probably won't happen again.

Gumpty Old Men.

Dear Mr. Gold,

How's this for a project?  This week, I did the big mail-out to all the agencies in LA in hopes that I will find my Ari Gold.  (as Sheriann said, "is this like Coyote Ugly?"  why yes, Sheriann, yes it is!).  I went and bought the Yellow Book, which comes out once a season, and lists all of the agencies in the area including: if they are taking new clients, what kind of new clients, and how they would like to be submitted to.  I filtered through all of that, and came up with 65 agencies to mail to, and 30 to email.  Here we go.  Stomach cramp.  

I realize I have been in LA for some time now before doing this and I am in no delusion that time is of the essence.  I see it on my forehead.  Nonetheless, I had been putting this off for so many reasons:

1. going to Peru

2. Had to have the right headshots, and then had to have them edited, formatted, printed, etc

3. Waiting for the next yellow booklet to be released

4. Thought I needed more time in acting class

5.  Needed to think about really wanting this.

6.  It's scary.

It's so hard for me to ask things from people.  I like to count on myself to make things happen, but in this place, you need people to help you get in the door.  

So, first order of business after sifting through the above list of poor excuses was to write a cover letter.  This pretty much explains who you are and what you want from these people, but it's not as easy as it sounds.  Most cover letters read like stereo instructions, boring and to the point.  This letter, along with anything else you send in the envelope, are all made to sell yourself; your personality, your charisma if any, and anything else that might shed light on who you are as a person.  After all, these people are not just presenting your skills to a potential employer like so many other jobs.  Agents pretty much present the essence of your being to directors and producers, trying to convince them that throngs of people will relate to you and admire.  Dramatic?  Well yes, it's what I do.  

This is what I ended up with:

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Talent Agency

address

Los Angeles, CA 

Dear Mr Agent:

I am writing in hopes that you might be interested in indulging an underachieving Asian girl’s quarter life crisis.  After wallowing in the sorrow that comes with realizing boredom in one’s first career, I have decided that A: much to the chagrin of my sterotypically overachieving family, I will not be fulfilled by a collection of post graduate degrees, and B: Getting what you want is mostly having the balls to attempt it.  Acting is what I wanted to do before I knew what a job was.  So here I am, back to the ambition of my free-thinking youth.  I am most interested in television, film, and commercial acting experiences. 

I graduated from Gonzaga University with a degree in Nursing, and have been taking cold reading and scene study classes with Doug Warhit in Beverly Hills for the last 9 months.  I have also taken various workshops with industry professionals during this time.  I am definitely a developing actor, but am ready to start auditioning.  I was last seen in a pilot called “All the Wrong Reasons” last year.  

I have included my headshots and resume, for your review, and will be following up to confirm receipt of my portfolio package.  Please feel free to contact me if there is anything else you might need to know; I am available to rendezvous at any time. 

I am enthused and highly motivated in taking this step toward my goals.  Thanks so much for your time, and I look forward to hearing from you soon.  

With warmest regards,

Mingni Sun

I know I KNOW, I used the word "balls".  I actually simmered over that word for an embarrassingly long time.  I realize that the very term might be horrendously offensive to some readers.  However, after carefully contemplation, I could not find any other alternative phrase that carries the weight of the original.  Furthermore, I am the girl who would use balls in a cover letter, and whomever gets the privilege/curse of representing me is going to have to be someone who is okay with it.  Thirdly, there is such a thing as style points, and if nothing else, I want style points.  

Soooo....... yeah.  Hope something good happens!

Ratchet Nurse.

Last week, I was working a particularly strenuous stretch of three days at the hospital.  Around 0815, we nursies decided that the day would not carry on efficiently without adequate dark brown caffeinated delight, so another nurse and I volunteered to walk the two blocks down the street to the local Starbucks for some brew.

You ever notice how a face lights up when you ask "You want anything at Starbucks?"  It's like seeing snow for the first time.  No?  Well, I'm a shift worker.  Coffee is revered*.

So the two of us trekked over to the Green Lady Caffeine Mecca with a looong list.  .... and as some of you might guess, many fussy fussy orders:

"-half calf skinny upside down caramel macchiato with extra sauce but no whip.

-venti light caramel frap with extra caramel IN THE CUP, NOT THE DRINK."
                                                                                                        oh Lawdy.

I was somewhat mortified to be relaying these requests to the employee behind the counter, but this is LA, and I had to assume that fussiness is forgiven here.  I even put her through the "I'm going to use my card, but when someone else in line uses cash and you open your drawer, would you break this twenty dollar bill?"  Like she didn't have enough to deal with.

Imagine my surprise, then, when she and another barista handed us our drinks/trays/lid stoppers/change/whatever else we wanted short of a pony and said,

"I just wanted you to know that you guys are the nicest nurses I have ever dealt with in here.  Seriously, you are the first to say 'please' and 'thank you'.  We have had so many nurses in here that are just demanding and rude.  Thank you guys so much."

UGH. (stomach drops).  That made me soo sad.  I mean, I have come across plenty a cranky nurse, but seriously?!  This Starbucks is within three blocks of three major hospitals in LA, so I can only imagine that the number of healthcare workers they encounter is great.  We were the first to be polite?!  I just mumbled something about working with babies and shamefully carried my seven drink trays our of the door.

I hate the reputation nurses have for being grumpy, lazy, oversensitive, patronizing, and demanding.  I also hate that the reputation isn't fabricated.  I know that it's not all nurses are known for, and I have also had a lot of positive reactions about this profession, but this encounter just hit hard.

Be kind.  Love Love Love.

*sidenote: to those who know me, you might be balking at this dialogue inferring that I am drinking coffee again.  I had gone through the torturous process of rehab-ing myself off of it after nursing school, and alas, I have fallen off of the bandwagon.  Most of it is psychological.  I feel better just holding it in my hands.  I know, pray for me.