There have been so many failures over the past few weeks it's hard to decide where to even begin. That's what I get for being such a lackadaisical blogger: backlog. So we'll start with failure number one which is not posting all the time about what I'm thinking and I'm pretty much thinking about something relevant ALL the time! But I'm tired and not prone to the marathon posts that Jon-Barrett enjoys so I'm just going to stick to one thing that's been irking me for awhile.
I'm opening a business with some friends and we've been in the process for oh, about 7 months. And after 3 (or 4?) tentative opening dates I still have no idea when we're actually going to open. There have been many, many , many...many setbacks. And mistakes. A lot of them on my part which brings me to the crux of things.
I can't remember the last time I did something that I'm really good at.
How did that happen? It used to be that I only, exclusively ( with the exception of math) did things that I was good at and luckily that was a pretty long list. I won awards, got straight A's, had my name in the paper, got the part, got the guy and looked good while doing it. Certainly things started to change when I moved to LA, but there were still some things I excelled at. At least that's how I like to remember the past.
But as soon as I peek over the rose-colored glasses I can see that no matter what I've been doing or how much outside praise I've gotten, I've always been plagued by insecurity during the process. No matter how many roles I've done, each one is a new experience that leaves me completely humbled. Ditto that with pretty much anything challenging and/or worthwhile. I don't know why I thought opening up an ice cream shop would be any different. (I've actually always really wanted to own my own business. It was a childhood dream that started even earlier than my desire to be an actress, but my first entrepreneurial foray is not quite everything I pictured small business owning to be. Of course, then again, neither is being an *aspiring* actress.) Perhaps if I would set my sights lower then I could constantly feel in control. Which is oh, so tempting! But also totally lame.
So the discomfort of having to stretch oneself and grow in pursuit of a higher goal is clearly worthwhile - or at the very least necessary. But even if I accept that, what do I do in the meantime to get that occasional and very important sensation of being a Bad-Ass?! Take up kickboxing? What if I suck? In fact, learning anything new is completely out. So what does that leave? I just watched Julie & Julia this weekend. Maybe I should consider taking up baking again as I was always quite good at that...
I guess what I'm saying is that I have an idea in my head of the kind of person I want to be, the difference I want to make and the life I want to live - but what it takes to actually become that person...well, stay tuned.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
What to do now?
What to do now, after getting fired from my place of work for five years? It is very simple, find a job and stop complaining, right? But then that makes me just another guy who has been fired and being fired is not a desirable attribute on any resume. It is also the way in which I lost my job that I want...that I need to have more weight than maybe it does. I know I was a good worker, a hard worker. I know customers liked me and requested me and still ask about me. But wearing the title of "fired" has a stigma to it. Other employers are not a fan of that word no matter what the circumstances. They believe that whatever you did to get fired you might do at their establishment. I do not want to be the guy who was fired. That is why I keep coming back to the inane way in which I was let go. http://howtosucceedasafailure.blogspot.com/2009/08/ramifications.html
For a few days after the incident, I was filled with a righteous indignation. I had been wronged by Jane Adams and Barney's New York. I wanted the world to know. I wanted the powers that be to see the can of worms they had opened. So I wrote and rewrote on my blog, on Facebook, and on twitter. There was a response. My friends and friends of friends came out in support agreeing how f-ed up the situation was and how I was the victim. It was brought to my attention that Michelle Focarazzo, the VP of customer service for Barney's, had been following me on twitter (@MMF0607) and that she was the one, after Jane Adams complained, who requested my managers let me go. I had to delete and block my mangers, some of whom are good friends, from my Facebook page because they were continuing to "monitor" my pages after I was no longer employed. I found out that they are prohibited to talk to me or have any contact with me, again these are friends of mine, some of them. The situation was serious it impacted my life. I needed it to be serious so I tried to sell the story and when that failed, I tried to give it away for free. No response.
I then started getting messages from those who believed I was at fault. That I should expect to get fired for writing on twitter. That I should lay off Jane Adams and Barney's. They were only reacting in accordance to what I had done to them. I started feeling guilty. I was the bad guy. I was the asshole, fixated on this poor woman who felt like I infringed on her privacy. In lieu of the numerous urgings from friends and strangers alike to publicize the incident and seek legal recourse, I kept quiet and tried to go on with my life. The internet buzz fizzled out, my time for vengeance had passed and I returned to being a guy who has been fired. I searched online hoping someone else would keep the flame burning for me so that I wouldn't feel fully implicated but still know I was supported. There was nothing.
I sent out resumes, I enjoyed my free time with my daughter and I waited for whatever was going to be next. I couldn't get away from the story, though. Aside from constantly thinking about it, I had to retell it to those who hadn't heard. Everyone I would run into wanted to know, "What happened?" I felt pathetic retelling it, even when their sympathy and support would pour out after hearing. I felt like those closest to me wanted me to stop talking about it. I wanted to stop talking about it even though it had only been a week since my termination. The financial implications of not having a job started to set in. I lost my health benefits, I couldn't afford to eat out, I had to stop bills from being automatically withdrawn from my account. I signed up for unemployment not thinking I would be accepted because of being fired. I was embarrassed at my situation.
Three things reinvigorated me. The first was getting a call from a reporter from LATimes.com to interview me for their technology page. My righteous fire ignited and I explained the whole story. Surprisingly he was sympathetic. He saw, I think, the ridiculousness of her complaining to get me fired. He asked me if I would have written what I had again knowing what the outcome would be. Of course I would! If I could, I would complain about every cheap, or nasty customer whom I had the displeasure of waiting on. My fire was raging. The story was going to be published. The second thing that got me going was reading about NFL players tweeting and how a policy had to be put in place to prevent the players from tweeting during a game. I wasn't alone anymore. Chad OchoCinco and I had a common quest, to freely express our opinions on a public forum. Although my 52 followers (which is more than double what I had before getting fired) does not compare to his 100,000 plus, our voices are still heard. The third thing was a combination of things. I returned to my acting class this week, having a lot of free time, to find support from my teacher and fellow students. I found out that other students working in the food industry in Beverly Hills had to sign confidentiality agreements before being employed, I never did. I also heard a story of a student who got drunk at his place of employment on his birthday and showed his penis and got a warning? I couldn't believe it. How ridiculous that he got a warning for that and I was fired for writing about a $3 tip.
Now, instead of being just another guy who got the axe, I have re-become the guy who got axed with a bigger axe of his own to grind. Look out Barney's New York! Beware Jane Adams! Where is the number for my lawyer? Where is that LA Times article? Where is my unemployment check? Where is my retribution?
Don't worry folks, this roller coaster is not over for any of us. Not as long as I have a voice.
For a few days after the incident, I was filled with a righteous indignation. I had been wronged by Jane Adams and Barney's New York. I wanted the world to know. I wanted the powers that be to see the can of worms they had opened. So I wrote and rewrote on my blog, on Facebook, and on twitter. There was a response. My friends and friends of friends came out in support agreeing how f-ed up the situation was and how I was the victim. It was brought to my attention that Michelle Focarazzo, the VP of customer service for Barney's, had been following me on twitter (@MMF0607) and that she was the one, after Jane Adams complained, who requested my managers let me go. I had to delete and block my mangers, some of whom are good friends, from my Facebook page because they were continuing to "monitor" my pages after I was no longer employed. I found out that they are prohibited to talk to me or have any contact with me, again these are friends of mine, some of them. The situation was serious it impacted my life. I needed it to be serious so I tried to sell the story and when that failed, I tried to give it away for free. No response.
I then started getting messages from those who believed I was at fault. That I should expect to get fired for writing on twitter. That I should lay off Jane Adams and Barney's. They were only reacting in accordance to what I had done to them. I started feeling guilty. I was the bad guy. I was the asshole, fixated on this poor woman who felt like I infringed on her privacy. In lieu of the numerous urgings from friends and strangers alike to publicize the incident and seek legal recourse, I kept quiet and tried to go on with my life. The internet buzz fizzled out, my time for vengeance had passed and I returned to being a guy who has been fired. I searched online hoping someone else would keep the flame burning for me so that I wouldn't feel fully implicated but still know I was supported. There was nothing.
I sent out resumes, I enjoyed my free time with my daughter and I waited for whatever was going to be next. I couldn't get away from the story, though. Aside from constantly thinking about it, I had to retell it to those who hadn't heard. Everyone I would run into wanted to know, "What happened?" I felt pathetic retelling it, even when their sympathy and support would pour out after hearing. I felt like those closest to me wanted me to stop talking about it. I wanted to stop talking about it even though it had only been a week since my termination. The financial implications of not having a job started to set in. I lost my health benefits, I couldn't afford to eat out, I had to stop bills from being automatically withdrawn from my account. I signed up for unemployment not thinking I would be accepted because of being fired. I was embarrassed at my situation.
Three things reinvigorated me. The first was getting a call from a reporter from LATimes.com to interview me for their technology page. My righteous fire ignited and I explained the whole story. Surprisingly he was sympathetic. He saw, I think, the ridiculousness of her complaining to get me fired. He asked me if I would have written what I had again knowing what the outcome would be. Of course I would! If I could, I would complain about every cheap, or nasty customer whom I had the displeasure of waiting on. My fire was raging. The story was going to be published. The second thing that got me going was reading about NFL players tweeting and how a policy had to be put in place to prevent the players from tweeting during a game. I wasn't alone anymore. Chad OchoCinco and I had a common quest, to freely express our opinions on a public forum. Although my 52 followers (which is more than double what I had before getting fired) does not compare to his 100,000 plus, our voices are still heard. The third thing was a combination of things. I returned to my acting class this week, having a lot of free time, to find support from my teacher and fellow students. I found out that other students working in the food industry in Beverly Hills had to sign confidentiality agreements before being employed, I never did. I also heard a story of a student who got drunk at his place of employment on his birthday and showed his penis and got a warning? I couldn't believe it. How ridiculous that he got a warning for that and I was fired for writing about a $3 tip.
Now, instead of being just another guy who got the axe, I have re-become the guy who got axed with a bigger axe of his own to grind. Look out Barney's New York! Beware Jane Adams! Where is the number for my lawyer? Where is that LA Times article? Where is my unemployment check? Where is my retribution?
Don't worry folks, this roller coaster is not over for any of us. Not as long as I have a voice.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Ramifications
Five years of loyal service. Five years of creating friendships with coworkers and customers. Five years of biting my tongue, trying not to complain too much about how our restaurant was run. Five years of being under-appreciated but staying with it because I liked the people I worked with, I liked the customers, most of them, some of them, and I liked the money I made. Five years at Barney Greengrass in Beverly Hills, home of the best smoked fish on the west coast, hoping our industry potent clientele might one day be my ticket to the career of my dreams, and it all ends because of a Tweet.
I got in yesterday morning at 8:55 for my 9am start time and was immediately called into our managers office. They sat me down with somber solemnity. I knew what was going to happen, I just didn't know why. I had been called into the office before. Being late, thinking I was cut when I wasn't, writing the bar temps down in the wrong place. But this was different. The attitude was delicate and ominous. I knew this was the end and I was racking my brain to figure how I had screwed up. My boss said the word "Twitter" and pulled out a printout of all my Tweets. I had written about being attracted to actresses not wearing bras and comedians who were nice guys and TV couples whose real life mirrored their scripted life. I had also written about Jane Adams, from HBO's Hung, who neglected to tip me until she read my Tweet (read also http://howtosucceedasafailure.blogspot.com/2009/08/tipping-twitter.html) All in all there were ten Tweets about celebrities on that print out. I was told that Jane Adams and "others" had complained to Barney's New York corporate (the department store my restaurant is located in) and they were forcing my management to let me go.
Let me remind everyone that we are in a recession and jobs are not easy to come by. Especially if one has been fired. Let me also remind everyone that I have a 10mo old daughter and I am trying to move into a baby friendly location with her and her mother. I sit silently in my car wondering, "What the fuck am I going to do?" As a waiter I make cash to pay my bills. I don't get pay checks. The money I make each week covers whatever I owe. It always works out. Now, there is no money.
I think about how f-ed up the situation is. I got fired for complaining on a public forum with no link to Barney's New York or Barney Greengrass about a successful actress not paying a bill and not tipping. My Tweet had no ill effect on her, on her TV show, on HBO, on Barney's or on Barney Greengrass. My little Tweet did nothing to stop people from shopping, eating, or watching her show. But her complaining about it cost me my job, my health insurance, my stability. So I decided to Tweet about the whole thing.
After numerous, sympathetic people Tweeted and re-Tweeted, it came to my attention that I could sell this story to some tabloid. Here is my dilemma, sell the story and contribute to the Jon and Kate gossip crap that I refuse to pay attention to in order to make a buck and ensure a little negative press hopefully for Ms. Adams and BNY, or forget the whole thing and look for a new job finding someway to spin how I got fired in my favor. Does anyone know the number for TMZ?
I got in yesterday morning at 8:55 for my 9am start time and was immediately called into our managers office. They sat me down with somber solemnity. I knew what was going to happen, I just didn't know why. I had been called into the office before. Being late, thinking I was cut when I wasn't, writing the bar temps down in the wrong place. But this was different. The attitude was delicate and ominous. I knew this was the end and I was racking my brain to figure how I had screwed up. My boss said the word "Twitter" and pulled out a printout of all my Tweets. I had written about being attracted to actresses not wearing bras and comedians who were nice guys and TV couples whose real life mirrored their scripted life. I had also written about Jane Adams, from HBO's Hung, who neglected to tip me until she read my Tweet (read also http://howtosucceedasafailure.blogspot.com/2009/08/tipping-twitter.html) All in all there were ten Tweets about celebrities on that print out. I was told that Jane Adams and "others" had complained to Barney's New York corporate (the department store my restaurant is located in) and they were forcing my management to let me go.
Let me remind everyone that we are in a recession and jobs are not easy to come by. Especially if one has been fired. Let me also remind everyone that I have a 10mo old daughter and I am trying to move into a baby friendly location with her and her mother. I sit silently in my car wondering, "What the fuck am I going to do?" As a waiter I make cash to pay my bills. I don't get pay checks. The money I make each week covers whatever I owe. It always works out. Now, there is no money.
I think about how f-ed up the situation is. I got fired for complaining on a public forum with no link to Barney's New York or Barney Greengrass about a successful actress not paying a bill and not tipping. My Tweet had no ill effect on her, on her TV show, on HBO, on Barney's or on Barney Greengrass. My little Tweet did nothing to stop people from shopping, eating, or watching her show. But her complaining about it cost me my job, my health insurance, my stability. So I decided to Tweet about the whole thing.
After numerous, sympathetic people Tweeted and re-Tweeted, it came to my attention that I could sell this story to some tabloid. Here is my dilemma, sell the story and contribute to the Jon and Kate gossip crap that I refuse to pay attention to in order to make a buck and ensure a little negative press hopefully for Ms. Adams and BNY, or forget the whole thing and look for a new job finding someway to spin how I got fired in my favor. Does anyone know the number for TMZ?
Monday, August 17, 2009
Tipping & Twitter
I am a waiter in Los Angeles, which means I am waiting for something to happen to get me out of having to wait on tables. I work at an industry popular restaurant that sees it's fair share of celebrity clientele. When I first started there, I would get real excited when a Name would come in and I had to wait on them. "Oh Shit! It's Steve Martin, Rachel Weiss, Chris Cornell, Demi Moore, Duane "The Rock" Johnson..." I would try not to pay too much attention to them and then fuck up their orders because I wasn't listening to what they were saying. After 5 years, the charm has worn off.
They are all people, some nice some not. I recognize them and that's about all the thought they get, unless they are engaging. Most of the people I end up having a connection with I don't recognize until a co-worker points it out. "That's who that is? They're pretty cool."
It's a strange place to be, serving the people who are doing what you want to be doing, living how you want to be living. I want to connect on some other level, that as a peer. I want to say, "I really admire your craft. I would love to work with you someday. Any advice?" They have to know I am here attempting what they are successful at. All waiters in LA are trying to be something else. But that connection doesn't come. That understanding doesn't show. There is no memory or recognition of the life they lived before IT happened for them in the life I am living in front of them. I am the friendly person with no story, no depth, sent to take care of their needs. The ones I do connect with appreciate the challenge I have set up for myself here in LA and they admire my courage to attempt it. They get it. They remember.
Last week an actress came in and sat in my section. She seemed like someone who would get it. Someone who would remember. I think she is a very talented actress and have a lot of respect for her choices. She has done numerous indie films. Some cult favorites. She is on a cable TV show that seems to be doing well. I enjoy it. I love her in it. She sat by herself at a table. Very polite and unassuming. I tried to convey recognition and approval in my eyes without saying anything more than taking her order.
It was a simple, modest meal at a reasonable rate. $13.75 which is reasonable for where I work. I dropped off the check. She looked at it and opened her bag. Her face went beet red. "Oh my God!" She shuffled through the contents. "I left my wallet in my car!" It happens. I could feel her embarrassment radiating off her. "I am soo Sorry!" I felt like I was watching a character in one of her movies. This would totally happen to one of her characters. "It's alright. Why don't you go down to your car and come back up and pay. I trust you." I was smiling amiably. Her face was plastered on billboards all over town. It's not like I wouldn't remember who she was. She wanted to let the manager know she would be back to pay. I knew she would be back. She had to be...
She never came back. My shift ended and her unpaid check was transferred to two different waiters before the day ended and the check was voided out as a loss of $13.75 to the restaurant. Not a big deal to anyone involved but a definite surprise to all that knew the story.
Two days went by, and I was working a full day at the bar. One of our managers received a phone call from the actress' agent wanting to pay the bill. They said she had left town and they were going to pay the bill. I got to process the payment since I was there and it was my check to begin with. They paid the bill, $13.75, no tip. Not a big deal to me financially but the principle of the thing was ridiculous. I put my neck on the line by letting her leave without paying and end up getting screwed. And she couldn't have even screwed me herself she had her agent screw me. Granted the screwing was painless and undetectable.
I decided to Tweet about the incident. I know nothing about Twitter. I follow 21 people and 22 follow me. Mostly hot young girls that want me to look at their webcams. I had only posted five Tweets prior. I would talk about whatever celebrity came in that day. I figured the 40 people following me might find it slightly amusing. There wasn't much else in my life that felt Tweetable. I Tweeted about the actress and the leaving and the agent not tipping. Got it off my chest. Interesting litle anecdote. I went back to watching her show and enjoying her career choices.
She came back in a few days ago. She didn't sit down. She walked in with indignation and stood at the host stand telling the host, who knew all about her and what happened, how her agent or business manager neglected to leave a tip and how she was here to right a wrong. She had him do the math trying to figure out %20 of $13.75. He came up with $3. "Three dollars?" she said proudly, "Can you break a twenty?" The host sent her to the bar for change. The manger at the bar gave her change and she fished out $3. "This is for my waiter from last week." He pointed to me and said, "He's right there. You can give it to him." With her head back and her face beet red she walked over and gave me $3. "Sorry my agent forgot to tip you." The bitterness was saturating every word. It was clear she could not believe she was here for $3. She walked away without smiling. "Thank you." "I'm sorry!" more scorn than apology. She walked off and exited the restaurant. I felt bad for some reason. I was a big fan of hers and I wanted her to know how much it meant that she came back. That gesture said a lot about her character. I chased after her. "Thank you again for coming back to give me this." She stopped and turned her head with disgust and said, "My friend read about it on Twitter!" She turned and walked off.
I wanted to start laughing. I was more surprised that someone read my Tweet than I was by her behavior. Than I started thinking about her and how removed she was from this whole situation, which was her fault, until she was forced to participate by her own vanity. I wasn't a peer to her, I wasn't a fan, I wasn't even a person. I was a nuisance to her routine. I was her fly circling her head. She had no apology. She had no remorse. She couldn't see the humor in the whole thing. She made a big deal about fishing out $3 from her massive cable TV pay check in order to hopefully make herself look good. I gave her what she wanted. I Tweeted good Tweets praising her and her talents. She goes on making a living doing what she loves never having to go back to taking anyone's orders with a smile and I go back to taking it.
Twitter is a powerful tool! If I had the patience and time I would learn how to better let it serve me.
They are all people, some nice some not. I recognize them and that's about all the thought they get, unless they are engaging. Most of the people I end up having a connection with I don't recognize until a co-worker points it out. "That's who that is? They're pretty cool."
It's a strange place to be, serving the people who are doing what you want to be doing, living how you want to be living. I want to connect on some other level, that as a peer. I want to say, "I really admire your craft. I would love to work with you someday. Any advice?" They have to know I am here attempting what they are successful at. All waiters in LA are trying to be something else. But that connection doesn't come. That understanding doesn't show. There is no memory or recognition of the life they lived before IT happened for them in the life I am living in front of them. I am the friendly person with no story, no depth, sent to take care of their needs. The ones I do connect with appreciate the challenge I have set up for myself here in LA and they admire my courage to attempt it. They get it. They remember.
Last week an actress came in and sat in my section. She seemed like someone who would get it. Someone who would remember. I think she is a very talented actress and have a lot of respect for her choices. She has done numerous indie films. Some cult favorites. She is on a cable TV show that seems to be doing well. I enjoy it. I love her in it. She sat by herself at a table. Very polite and unassuming. I tried to convey recognition and approval in my eyes without saying anything more than taking her order.
It was a simple, modest meal at a reasonable rate. $13.75 which is reasonable for where I work. I dropped off the check. She looked at it and opened her bag. Her face went beet red. "Oh my God!" She shuffled through the contents. "I left my wallet in my car!" It happens. I could feel her embarrassment radiating off her. "I am soo Sorry!" I felt like I was watching a character in one of her movies. This would totally happen to one of her characters. "It's alright. Why don't you go down to your car and come back up and pay. I trust you." I was smiling amiably. Her face was plastered on billboards all over town. It's not like I wouldn't remember who she was. She wanted to let the manager know she would be back to pay. I knew she would be back. She had to be...
She never came back. My shift ended and her unpaid check was transferred to two different waiters before the day ended and the check was voided out as a loss of $13.75 to the restaurant. Not a big deal to anyone involved but a definite surprise to all that knew the story.
Two days went by, and I was working a full day at the bar. One of our managers received a phone call from the actress' agent wanting to pay the bill. They said she had left town and they were going to pay the bill. I got to process the payment since I was there and it was my check to begin with. They paid the bill, $13.75, no tip. Not a big deal to me financially but the principle of the thing was ridiculous. I put my neck on the line by letting her leave without paying and end up getting screwed. And she couldn't have even screwed me herself she had her agent screw me. Granted the screwing was painless and undetectable.
I decided to Tweet about the incident. I know nothing about Twitter. I follow 21 people and 22 follow me. Mostly hot young girls that want me to look at their webcams. I had only posted five Tweets prior. I would talk about whatever celebrity came in that day. I figured the 40 people following me might find it slightly amusing. There wasn't much else in my life that felt Tweetable. I Tweeted about the actress and the leaving and the agent not tipping. Got it off my chest. Interesting litle anecdote. I went back to watching her show and enjoying her career choices.
She came back in a few days ago. She didn't sit down. She walked in with indignation and stood at the host stand telling the host, who knew all about her and what happened, how her agent or business manager neglected to leave a tip and how she was here to right a wrong. She had him do the math trying to figure out %20 of $13.75. He came up with $3. "Three dollars?" she said proudly, "Can you break a twenty?" The host sent her to the bar for change. The manger at the bar gave her change and she fished out $3. "This is for my waiter from last week." He pointed to me and said, "He's right there. You can give it to him." With her head back and her face beet red she walked over and gave me $3. "Sorry my agent forgot to tip you." The bitterness was saturating every word. It was clear she could not believe she was here for $3. She walked away without smiling. "Thank you." "I'm sorry!" more scorn than apology. She walked off and exited the restaurant. I felt bad for some reason. I was a big fan of hers and I wanted her to know how much it meant that she came back. That gesture said a lot about her character. I chased after her. "Thank you again for coming back to give me this." She stopped and turned her head with disgust and said, "My friend read about it on Twitter!" She turned and walked off.
I wanted to start laughing. I was more surprised that someone read my Tweet than I was by her behavior. Than I started thinking about her and how removed she was from this whole situation, which was her fault, until she was forced to participate by her own vanity. I wasn't a peer to her, I wasn't a fan, I wasn't even a person. I was a nuisance to her routine. I was her fly circling her head. She had no apology. She had no remorse. She couldn't see the humor in the whole thing. She made a big deal about fishing out $3 from her massive cable TV pay check in order to hopefully make herself look good. I gave her what she wanted. I Tweeted good Tweets praising her and her talents. She goes on making a living doing what she loves never having to go back to taking anyone's orders with a smile and I go back to taking it.
Twitter is a powerful tool! If I had the patience and time I would learn how to better let it serve me.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Let's Meet Our Contestants!
If this was a meeting of Under-Achiever's Anonymous, this is how I would introduce myself:
"Hi, I'm St. Sparrow . I'm 28 years old. I've been pursuing acting in Hollywood for 6 years. In that time I've gone on 67 commercial auditions and never shot a single one. I've done 3 plays and 2 independent feature length films. I've taken headshots with 7 photographers, spent unknown amounts of money, wasted incalculable gallons of gas and been scammed at least 2 times. I am (and here I would pause to gather myself) an under-achiever." In a way, this blog is a meeting of Under-Achiever's Anonymous. And Non-Achiever's Anonymous. And Does Not Live Up to Full Potential Anonymous. This is for all of the great thinkers, bright bulbs, erstwhile inventors, and dazzling talented creative people out there who are still working behind the counter of Starbuck's. Or folding t-shirts at Urban Outfitters. Or buying their more successful employer a latte at Starbuck's and a t-shirt from Urban... This is for all of those people with extraordinary minds doing menial work and wondering "what the f*#$ happened to me?!"
My turn. I graduated from college 8 years ago (and by graduate I mean my family and friends came to watch me walk across the stage at a graduation ceremony to receive an empty cardboard envelope due to my lack of completing two classes.) I write BFA on my resumes because, really, who cares? I am an actor and there is not a lot of training or education needed to call yourself that. I was dropped by my agent this past year due to the recession. For those of you who don't know having a client costs an agency $0, but due to "the failing economy" they couldn't afford me. I have worked as a waiter and a bartender for the last 7 years having numerous people tell me, "you've got a great look," or "I know something is going to happen for you." Nothing has happened. I call myself a writer as well. I have started writing three screen plays, six episodes of a TV show, one stage play, a musical and a novel. I have finished none of them. Maybe that's why I am writing this blog. Maybe I am trying to fulfill some sense of accomplishment. Maybe I just want to know that there are others out there who want to rise above but struggle just to stand. Life is hard. I make it a lot harder for myself.
Hi, it's me again. I also thought you should know, we just had a kid (Aha! The plot thickens!) A 10 month -old beacon of light with red curls and bright blue eyes. This unexpected event is not a failure. In fact, so far, little bright eyes has been the rare, unqualified and exuberant success that I've been looking for elsewhere my entire life.
Her arrival into our lives has been such a success in fact, that it's a reminder of why we keep going at all. She's the reason to go on a 68th audition. Or to start a new writing project. Or to stay in a city that constantly holds up the brass ring while emphasizing how far away we still are from grasping it. So,ultimately, although this is a blog about failures of all kinds - small, large, important and not, funny and so serious they hurt...this is also a blog about how to succeed anyway. In spite of and because of all the disappointments that litter the road behind us. Welcome.
"Hi, I'm St. Sparrow . I'm 28 years old. I've been pursuing acting in Hollywood for 6 years. In that time I've gone on 67 commercial auditions and never shot a single one. I've done 3 plays and 2 independent feature length films. I've taken headshots with 7 photographers, spent unknown amounts of money, wasted incalculable gallons of gas and been scammed at least 2 times. I am (and here I would pause to gather myself) an under-achiever." In a way, this blog is a meeting of Under-Achiever's Anonymous. And Non-Achiever's Anonymous. And Does Not Live Up to Full Potential Anonymous. This is for all of the great thinkers, bright bulbs, erstwhile inventors, and dazzling talented creative people out there who are still working behind the counter of Starbuck's. Or folding t-shirts at Urban Outfitters. Or buying their more successful employer a latte at Starbuck's and a t-shirt from Urban... This is for all of those people with extraordinary minds doing menial work and wondering "what the f*#$ happened to me?!"
My turn. I graduated from college 8 years ago (and by graduate I mean my family and friends came to watch me walk across the stage at a graduation ceremony to receive an empty cardboard envelope due to my lack of completing two classes.) I write BFA on my resumes because, really, who cares? I am an actor and there is not a lot of training or education needed to call yourself that. I was dropped by my agent this past year due to the recession. For those of you who don't know having a client costs an agency $0, but due to "the failing economy" they couldn't afford me. I have worked as a waiter and a bartender for the last 7 years having numerous people tell me, "you've got a great look," or "I know something is going to happen for you." Nothing has happened. I call myself a writer as well. I have started writing three screen plays, six episodes of a TV show, one stage play, a musical and a novel. I have finished none of them. Maybe that's why I am writing this blog. Maybe I am trying to fulfill some sense of accomplishment. Maybe I just want to know that there are others out there who want to rise above but struggle just to stand. Life is hard. I make it a lot harder for myself.
Hi, it's me again. I also thought you should know, we just had a kid (Aha! The plot thickens!) A 10 month -old beacon of light with red curls and bright blue eyes. This unexpected event is not a failure. In fact, so far, little bright eyes has been the rare, unqualified and exuberant success that I've been looking for elsewhere my entire life.
Her arrival into our lives has been such a success in fact, that it's a reminder of why we keep going at all. She's the reason to go on a 68th audition. Or to start a new writing project. Or to stay in a city that constantly holds up the brass ring while emphasizing how far away we still are from grasping it. So,ultimately, although this is a blog about failures of all kinds - small, large, important and not, funny and so serious they hurt...this is also a blog about how to succeed anyway. In spite of and because of all the disappointments that litter the road behind us. Welcome.
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