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Jun. 13th, 2004 11:36 amYesterday I was going to walk down to David Barton's gym down in lower Chelsea, where one of the Chorus girls from Trojan Women works, to get her copy of the TW script, so I could xerox my Helen sides (I seem to have lost them). I left around 3:00 and was walking down 45th toward the corner of 9th Ave., calling someone on my phone, and I noticed a guy who looked familiar (like maybe I'd done a show with him), calling someone on hisphone. We were eyeballing each other and I started to smile because without my intending it, it was turning into a flirtatious exchange, each of us sneaking glances at the other.
Walking down 9th Ave., I got swept into a flea market on 44th St. I wandered through it for a bit, and noticed a clothing shop in 44th. I went in and was chatting with the proprietor about how nice it was to find such a shop--I'd always said Hell's Kitchen was great for restaurants, but lousy for shopping. The clothes there were great but a little expensive. I ended up buying a gorgeous skirt in various shades of oranges and yellow.
Leaving there, I continued to make my way downtown. I passed by the Hell's Kitchen Flea Market and decided to see what was there this week. There were a couple of those Chinese guys with the massage chairs, so I asked for a massage. The guy is giving it to me, very businesslike, and at the end he says "all done now." I lift my head and he's massaging the top of my face and says "You so beautiful." I smile and say thank you, then he says enthusiastically "You do porn!" My smile faded, as I had no absolutely no idea how to respond to that. Thank you? Fuck off? My body is too boyish? You've acclimatized way too well to this country and what does that say about us?
After seeing the pictures Peter Gorman shot of me, Peter M. told me I should pose for Playboy. I can't believe I know more about the industry than him, since I don't read Playboy or any of those magazines, but I had to explain to him they wouldn't want me. I'm too small, in every way--too skinny, too boyish, too short. The only way Playboy would shoot me is if I were a well-established star. In either case, I doubt I would be interested. Playboy's pictures are beautiful and well-done, but they are ultimately porn and not art, because their aim is solely to get the guy off--that's why they always use the same types of models.
After that, I checked out Lizzie Tish's booth, where Duncan and I got a lot of the AYLI costumes last year. I saw a lot of stuff I wanted to try on but restrained myself. I told her she could've costumed The Stepford Wives all by herself.
I finally left and hurried down to David Barton's and copied the script. Jenn was going to work out after her shift and invited me to as well, but I wasn't dressed properly and walking in the sun had tired me out so I declined. I walked back to my apartment, stopping for an extremely healthy smoothie on the way.
Rehearsal went fine, considering Doug wasn't there. We were waiting for him to show up and he never did so we worked on stuff without him. When we were almost finished, I finally got a sheepish call from Doug--he'd been exhausted and had just put his head down for a second--and passed out. He was very apologetic--I believe his first words were "I am such an asshole." I told him I was going to punish him thoroughly on Monday.
For some reason, I felt the need to explain my lenience to Matt after I hung up, and I said as long as people are giving a good effort and have a good attitude, I give mad slack to actors. I don't like playing the authoritarian--I will sometimes speak sharply to them (I did a couple of times during AYLI rehearsals because we had limited time for the final runthroughs and Sulai kept showing up late and costing me money) but generally I'm pretty easy-going. However. I told Matt about He Who Must Not Be Named, and said the final straw was when he showed up 25 minutes late for that runthrough, and strolled through the door eating pizza. I don't like playing the authoritarian--but I am more than willing to open up a can of whupass if need be.
After rehearsal we got something to eat at Mercury's where my meal was spoiled with the arrival of the check, which showed charges of $9.50 each for a normal margarita. I spoke to the waiter and then the manager, saying that's outrageous for a rail drink, and that's the sort of thing that makes me decide to go somewhere else. Unbelievable. To put it in context, Duncan's Jack Daniels was only $7.00, as was Matt's Bushmill's Irish Whiskey.
Duncan wanted to go down to Marie's Crisis in the Village, so I joined him, after stopping off at my apartment to leave my script, and so Duncan could skritch Tatiana's head. She was just fewocious around him. Marie's Crisis was lots of fun--we were able to get up to the bar eventually, where a guy sitting next tome promptly knocked his Cosmo all over my white pants during "All for the Best" from Godspell! He was all horrified--I told him "finish the song and then get me club soda!" His name was Steve--he was very nice but as Duncan said, a bit exuberant. I kept moving drinks out of his reach.
I was thinking about the lyrics of "Cabaret" while we sang that song. They really struck me for some reason. Maybe that's why I haven't settled down.
I remember how she'd turn to me and say
What good is sitting all alone in your room?
Come hear the music play....
When I go
I'm going
Like
Elsie...
Left around 2:00 and was in bed around 3:00. I love New York.
Walking down 9th Ave., I got swept into a flea market on 44th St. I wandered through it for a bit, and noticed a clothing shop in 44th. I went in and was chatting with the proprietor about how nice it was to find such a shop--I'd always said Hell's Kitchen was great for restaurants, but lousy for shopping. The clothes there were great but a little expensive. I ended up buying a gorgeous skirt in various shades of oranges and yellow.
Leaving there, I continued to make my way downtown. I passed by the Hell's Kitchen Flea Market and decided to see what was there this week. There were a couple of those Chinese guys with the massage chairs, so I asked for a massage. The guy is giving it to me, very businesslike, and at the end he says "all done now." I lift my head and he's massaging the top of my face and says "You so beautiful." I smile and say thank you, then he says enthusiastically "You do porn!" My smile faded, as I had no absolutely no idea how to respond to that. Thank you? Fuck off? My body is too boyish? You've acclimatized way too well to this country and what does that say about us?
After seeing the pictures Peter Gorman shot of me, Peter M. told me I should pose for Playboy. I can't believe I know more about the industry than him, since I don't read Playboy or any of those magazines, but I had to explain to him they wouldn't want me. I'm too small, in every way--too skinny, too boyish, too short. The only way Playboy would shoot me is if I were a well-established star. In either case, I doubt I would be interested. Playboy's pictures are beautiful and well-done, but they are ultimately porn and not art, because their aim is solely to get the guy off--that's why they always use the same types of models.
After that, I checked out Lizzie Tish's booth, where Duncan and I got a lot of the AYLI costumes last year. I saw a lot of stuff I wanted to try on but restrained myself. I told her she could've costumed The Stepford Wives all by herself.
I finally left and hurried down to David Barton's and copied the script. Jenn was going to work out after her shift and invited me to as well, but I wasn't dressed properly and walking in the sun had tired me out so I declined. I walked back to my apartment, stopping for an extremely healthy smoothie on the way.
Rehearsal went fine, considering Doug wasn't there. We were waiting for him to show up and he never did so we worked on stuff without him. When we were almost finished, I finally got a sheepish call from Doug--he'd been exhausted and had just put his head down for a second--and passed out. He was very apologetic--I believe his first words were "I am such an asshole." I told him I was going to punish him thoroughly on Monday.
For some reason, I felt the need to explain my lenience to Matt after I hung up, and I said as long as people are giving a good effort and have a good attitude, I give mad slack to actors. I don't like playing the authoritarian--I will sometimes speak sharply to them (I did a couple of times during AYLI rehearsals because we had limited time for the final runthroughs and Sulai kept showing up late and costing me money) but generally I'm pretty easy-going. However. I told Matt about He Who Must Not Be Named, and said the final straw was when he showed up 25 minutes late for that runthrough, and strolled through the door eating pizza. I don't like playing the authoritarian--but I am more than willing to open up a can of whupass if need be.
After rehearsal we got something to eat at Mercury's where my meal was spoiled with the arrival of the check, which showed charges of $9.50 each for a normal margarita. I spoke to the waiter and then the manager, saying that's outrageous for a rail drink, and that's the sort of thing that makes me decide to go somewhere else. Unbelievable. To put it in context, Duncan's Jack Daniels was only $7.00, as was Matt's Bushmill's Irish Whiskey.
Duncan wanted to go down to Marie's Crisis in the Village, so I joined him, after stopping off at my apartment to leave my script, and so Duncan could skritch Tatiana's head. She was just fewocious around him. Marie's Crisis was lots of fun--we were able to get up to the bar eventually, where a guy sitting next tome promptly knocked his Cosmo all over my white pants during "All for the Best" from Godspell! He was all horrified--I told him "finish the song and then get me club soda!" His name was Steve--he was very nice but as Duncan said, a bit exuberant. I kept moving drinks out of his reach.
I was thinking about the lyrics of "Cabaret" while we sang that song. They really struck me for some reason. Maybe that's why I haven't settled down.
I remember how she'd turn to me and say
What good is sitting all alone in your room?
Come hear the music play....
When I go
I'm going
Like
Elsie...
Left around 2:00 and was in bed around 3:00. I love New York.
