I’m a 2000 man

Because when I was 15 I would name my livejournal blogs with song titles stuck in my head at the time.

As Wil Wheaton tends to do, he has inspired me to let loose a little bit with the structure I’ve given myself for this blog. Because the thing is, this is still a blog. A diary. A journal. It doesn’t have to be anymore serious than I want it to be.

I want to be open, I want to be honest, and I want to try and share my journey more.

So! With that in my mind: Let’s look at my December, pros and cons.

Pros:

I have money in my account, and that’s just swell. Supanova paid me (I’m an MC now!), work is coming along nicely in the childcare realm, and I’m excited for the future of not depending on my government for handouts.

I have a callback tonight! It’s for a feature film where I play a man with slight autism. That ought to be really interesting to play. I’m very excited.

Feature film script is coming along nicely. I’m 45 pages in which means I’m officially halfway to the minimum amount of pages. I think I’ll surpass that easily. That said there’s a lot of revision to do, and I’m gonna utilise every writer friend I know to make the polish I need.

My personal life is calm. I can be lazy and uninspired, unlike my focused partner, who has a full time job and a straightforward career. I take that in my stride though. I know the path I chose, and I know that I can make things happen. I just have to make things happen. No one can do it for me.

Christmas is here. I personally don’t give a shit but Issy likes it and Shez my cat like to try to eat the christmas tree. Plus, I get gifts for the first time since forever now that I’m with her. It’s nice to be appreciated.

And finally! I’ve joined a gym. Overall I’d give my attendance a C, especially since when I go there I tend to overwork myself and need to recover and then get lazy, but I’m going of my free will and not for some stupid new years resolution, so that’s something.

Overwatch. I’m having so much fun having something to focus on. It’s like sport but less filled with mysogyny. Funfunfunfun.

Cons

All those dead people. You know who they are. I don’t need or want to get into it. But everyone, please, keep Patrick Stewart safe.

I have RAW Comedy Competition in January and I’m scared as fuck. I’m a much more experienced actor and comedy is still very new. Every time I step on stage it’s like learning to walk. But this is for new performers and I certainly fit the bill.

My theatre restaurant show got cancelled. Temporarily, but still, a bummer. It always is when a paid gig gets put off. Daddy needs his honey!

I got a haircut and they cut too much and I kinda hate it. I want my viking braids back. 😥

Certain workplaces are less than awesome. Won’t name names. But I will tell you that one team leader munches on food in the backroom like the rest of them but I’m not allowed to. So that’s super fun.

Overall, I’m pretty happy with myself, and I’m gonna try and write some jokes out for January 21 Raw comp. AHHHHHHHHHH.

Take care home slices!

-Jack
http://www.jackinaction.com

My cap would be glad of a copper or two

In my childhood, one of my fondest memories is the joy of popping into a Video Rental Store (ask your parents, children) and grabbing the VHS for Mary Poppins. Again. My adult self giggles in retrospect to be honest, because god knows we rented that goddamn tape from that little store so many times throughout the years that my mother may as well have bought me a tape of my own long ago. Maybe she simply liked the tradition and consistency of my grabbing the tape as she looked through the “boring adult” section of new releases.

And my favourite character? Bert. I mean, come on, who couldn’t love that chimney sweeping, art making, one man big band scallywag? I’d be remiss not to acknowledge the affect he had on my young life. He made me realize that you need not be ashamed of your work- as long as you’re passionate about it, that the process is the joy, to have a sense of humor about yourself, and probably most importantly- money matters little.

I’ve struggled with that in adult years, as I found out slowly but surely that Walt Disney had not engineered our lives, and that money in  fact matters  a lot. We need it to eat, we need it to keep warm, and, like it or not- it’s what people use to define you as a professional or amateur artist. Is he making a living or not?

Well- it depends what you mean by “living”, I suppose. I need art to live, like anybody; and my art cannot, could not, would not live without me. Is that enough?

Should it be enough?

I found myself wondering this as I came down from the stage of my first comedy show in Melbourne. I was excited just to be on the poster, and to get on stage, and I knew, if successful, money would come. Or not! It didn’t matter.

Well put simply? It was wonderful. I hadn’t practiced in months and it was my first time being a comedy show MC. I’m not going to lie, I felt I probably sucked a little, but made up for it enthusiasm. The acts were varied, strange, bouncy and quick as a whip, warm and dry… it was so wonderful being the ringmaster of that crazy circus… and I learned a lot.

I thanked the audience for coming, and pick up my bag to leave. All of a sudden, the host, Lawal, and the guy that brought me on board to the show, shoved some money into my hand. This was not expected. We had agreed this would be pro bono. An experiment… Yet there was the money, being placed into my hand.

“You did a wonderful job”, Lawal said. “Thank you.”
I was flabbergasted.
“Holy fuck mate, no, thank you” I said, putting the cash into my pocket without a word of protest.
“It really means a lot.”

He clapped my shoulder, smiled and went to talk to someone else. I could feel the cash burning in my pocket. Was I a professional now? What did it all mean?

Did I deserve this? Guilt began to rear it’s ugly head.

And then, my favourite worst cockney accent of all time popped into my head.

No remuneration do I ask of you, but me cap would be glad of a copper or two!”

Pride took its place as I made my way to my car. Who can say it better really?

 

Must Try Harder

This past week I have worked every day. Weekends included. Performance, study, assessment, auditions, or children’s entertainment.

Yesterday I spent the morning cleaning and trying to relax after a stressful week, and received a phone call.

The phone call nicely told me that my services were no longer required.

An hour later they had picked up my gear.

After the phone call I had a boost juice and felt so sick I stuck my fingers down my throat and vomited it up just to feel better.

Today they did my final invoices, with a three word response to my effort:

“Thanks for that.”

Today I didn’t go out. I felt sick. I felt beaten, I felt like a rudderless ship.

Today I tried making progress and found my engine was stalling.

Today I tried to find a new agent and was told “We’ll get back to you when we can”.

Today I wanted to throw up the few bites of waffle and strawberries I bought as anything in my stomach felt like poison.

Today I watched what work I could have done fly by as I wrote this message to no one in particular.

Today I drank water as I couldn’t keep down anything else.

Can’t keep down.

Can’t keep up.

Can’t.

Can’t I do anything right?

Can’t I just get started making money doing what I actually want to do? Can’t I be accepted as who I am, not something someone wants me to be? Can’t I be doing what I want?

How long can I keep this up for? When do I just stop trying?

Must try harder.

Hard to try.

Harder to stop.

Can’t keep it down. Won’t shut up.

I wish I could.

I really, really do.

All I can do is try.

Must try harder.