I might possibly have been £30 grand richer if I had been smart about things. Oh well. You lose some, and hope you win some later on.
I hate it when people patronize you. Like seriously, just because you are 20 years ahead of me doesn't mean it gives you the right to talk down to me. Even so, we've been fucking living under the same roof for the past 3months, you witnessed when I was sat in front of the computer writing up my thesis, I even told you that was my masters thesis, and I told you that I'd finished school for good after that. And two fucking months later, you ask if I'm on holiday? When I say no, I'm done, you question if I'm writing my thesis. When I say no, I did that in September, remember? You go, oh so you've finished it all? Like what the fuck? I don't mind when people are thick and daft, but you bloody wasted hours of my time, whingeing at me non-stop, and I sit ther politely and listen to you, but you don't fucking register something that I've told you at least 5 times before? It just pisses me off. And you get all 'oh welcome to the real world'
I know what the real world is, I'm living in it now and fucking trying to do my best in this tough times, I don't need you and your stupid ignorant presumptuous arse giving me that better-than-thou attitude. I've told you before I'm from Singapore, the land of eternal summer, like your fucking home Kenya, and your ignoramus head goes 'what's the winter like in Singapore?' My God people can be utter fucking morons and idiots sometimes. I'm not being the kindest of people now, I know, but I am in a very foul mood and I do not need fucking slobby middle-aged men whom I humour and try to be nice to and listen to them whinge on and on telling me 'welcome to the real world'. Go fuck yourself. Go fuck yourself again when you're done. And then go fuck that stupid 4x4 of yours that you want buy suspensions and spoilers for from Australia for for us to ship it back for you. I'm sorry but you scratch my back and I scratch yours. You can't treat this home like a fucking hotel, not make the effort to get to know us or our Oz friends who crash here and whom you want to do all your dirty work, and expect us to bend over for you. We've only got 2 wks and Oz, and I'll be fucked if I'm going to be running around trying to run some slobby 45 yr old man's errands because he's too fucking tight to get them done properly in the UK.
Fuck off.
It's not about me, at all.
Acting is such a tough depressing job. At the end of the day, one must NEVER get their hopes up. Because when you do, you risk disappointment. You can only do your best, and then forget about it. If you happen to get the job, that's an added bonus. Someone at an audition told me 'That is exactly what we're looking for!'. So I waited for the call. But instead, got an email from them 1 day late saying 'It was a close call, but sorry it's a no this time round'. It's like dating! You think you've found Mr Right and he treats you like a princess and is uber keen but after your third date you never hear from him and realise he's met someone else.
I need to stop expecting anything. But then again, it's all still fresh. But then again, when I'm jaded and cynical, I'm going to be 10 times as hopeful with each audition, considering if I only get one every 3 months...
Remember that it's not you; it's them. You are amazing and excellent at what you do; they just happen to be looking for something else. Depressing isn't it? It really is like dating. So, I'm hanging on in there for this biggie, NOT going to expect anything, nah-uh-uh. Expectations: baaaaad. Assuming the worst: goooood.
There's a million reasons why you don't get cast: too old, too young, too blonde, too skinny, wrong skin tone, non-perfect teeth, doesn't look good with the other actor, doesn't look like the actor playing the mum, looks too much like the actor playing the friend, voice too bright, wrong accent, too good looking, too perfect, producer wants someone more famous, in general just not quite right.
So it's not me, it's them. Remember that Daphne Quah. And don't be a sook. An audition is an audition is an audition is only an audition. So what if you don't get it? You move onto the next thing. Steady on! as the English would say.
So, a professional actor is actually, really, a professional auditionee. And a person who takes all rejection professionally, never personally.
I am brilliant, and magnificently so. And that's that. And if you don't see it, that's just too bad, for both of us.
Saturday, July 03, 2010
Why am I nice? Why do I bother to volunteer and offer advice to other people without them badgering me for it? I forget that not everyone doesn't have a hidden agenda. I forget that not everyone likes to be nice and I get disappointed when people choose to not be nice to me.
Some people are just blessed with meeting nice people all the time. They seem to attract good people to them and I wish I was one of those people. I offer up my services to people without them asking me for it, yet I never seem to get the same back from my 'friends' or the people that surround me.
I really need to stop expecting things from people. Curb my expectations. People are scum, and there's no reason why they should be otherwise.
I've been helpful and kind and supportive in many ways, yet she can't even spare one evening to come watch my play, even though everyone else we live with (including the 'scary' housemate) is coming to see it. I thought more of her, but I should have known. People are all selfish. Some people take all they can get, and she's one of them. No point getting upset over shitty people. I'll just know not to expect things in future and not put myself out for someone who will not do the same in return. It's her fucking loss anyway, for I'm in one helluva fucking awesome play, if I may say so myself. If people do not want to be cultured, I cannot help them. What dross.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Why do I act? Why do I create theatre?
I forget that life isn't smooth sailing, that I can't have everything all the time. But then I fall into a false sense of complacency and I get a rude jolt when I'm reminded that I can't have my way all the time. Especially when you're living within a society of people. If I was a hermit I could have everything I wanted, all the time, no one to stop or refuse me. But I'm not a hermit. I'm not an army of one.
What is the meaning of life? Why do I exist? Theatre gives one the opportunity to be a multitude of people, experiencing a multitude of emotions and experiences. I'm constantly searching, seeking, looking. And theatre lets me live and breathe these various experiences without actually being it.
I was reminded this morning that one can never be truly satisfied. We need to keep searching.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Do I really really have to spell things out all the time? Sometimes you think that spending heaps of time with someone makes you in tune with them and them in tune to your thoughts. Guess again.
Sometimes I wish I wasn't one to practise subtlely and expect people close to me to clue on to my hints. I wish sometimes that I cut to the chase and spell out what I want. Maybe that would make my life easier. For me, at least. But then again, if I was like that, I wouldn't be me, would I?
Ah another of life's infinite dilemmas.
And it doesn't help that when I'm troubled I can't sleep. And I toss and turn while I fume and rage away in the tiny confines of my little little brain. Magnifying everything and churning through my thoughts over and over.
Damn sometimes being a woman is annoying.
