Flash Oodelally and the really Big Apple

2006-11-11T21:28:00.000-08:00

Oh wow...uncomfortably true...

The Priss
Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer (DBLDf)

Mature. Responsible. Aristocratic. Excuse me. The Priss.

Prisses are the smartest of all female types. You're highly perceptive, and confident in your judgements. You'd take brutal honesty over superficiality any time--your friends always know where they stand with you. You're completely unfake. Don't tell me that's not a word. You're also excellent at redirecting internal negative energy.

These facts indicate people are often intimidated by you. They also fall for you, hard. You have a distant, composed allure that many find irresistible. If only more of them lived up to your standards.

Your exact opposite:
The Playstation

Random Gentle Sex Master

You were probably the last among your friends to have sex. And the first to pretend that you're pregnant. LOL. Though you're inclined to use sex as weapon, at least it's not as one of mass destruction. You're choosier than most about your partners. A supportive relationship is what you're really after. Whether you know it or not, you need something steady & long-term. And soothing.

ALWAYS AVOID: The Playboy, The Loverboy

CONSIDER: The Manchild

Link: The 32-Type Dating Test by OkCupid - Free Online Dating.

2006-11-10T13:47:00.000-08:00

"I merely wish for virtue and virtue is at hand. "

One of my favorite quotes.

It's all in the mind. Acting is all an elaborate game we play with ourselves and the people around us. Confiedence is a fickle sometimes friend.

I am wrong.

I am right.
I am right..
I am right...

The shift is instant because it is psychological. The only barriers on the mind are the barriers we create. Illusions to be torn down.

I am right.
I am confiedent.
I am going to nail this.
This is going to eb as it should be.

It is not a note out of range. Not a matter of strength or even endurance. It operates on will alone. On will alone.

I will it and it is.
Stop.
It is.
Because I would have it be.

How often I forget what I have myself written.

I am I am I am
and that is all that is required to get the job done
The job is done
in personal perfection
it is done already.

alright?

Okay,

Go

2006-11-09T08:48:00.000-08:00

Whenever I become acquainted with new animals I seem to think up lyrics about them. This is the latest in my animal verse. It is about my uncle's dogs Ralph, a fat and agressive chihuahua, and Bob, a neurotic frilly looking lap dog with self confiedence issues. Think boom-chick baseline with a sort of vaudeville flair/radio announcer suave male singer. George M Cohan even...

Everybody loves Ralphy
So nobody bothers with bob
little and cute
and looks swell in a suit
you can tell Ralph's the alpha dog
Showered with food
without having to beg
you'll even love him
attacking your leg
Oh everybody loves Ralphy
so nobody bothers with Bob

I'll wrie more later...

2006-11-07T12:28:00.000-08:00

Taking a cue from Di (thanks, honey!) I decided it was indeed time to post a new blog....

So I'm writing from sunny Florida which isn't so sunny at the moment. But it is warm. Nice and warm. Something very out of the ordinary has happened upon my arrival here. It confuses and befuddles me. I have free time. I am not used to it. I am being paid well. I have no real expenses. And I have free time. I don't know if I fall into the norm or not but I can't remember the last time I had free time. Part of it is the part I have is not particularily demanding. The other side of it is that I know no one in Florida outside of my uncle and aunt. So, in short, I have no one to hang out with which means, once again, that I have free time. Today I woke up at 8:30 having gotten a full 8 hrs sleep. I made a leisurely breakfast and watched a full length movie. I then went running for a half an hour on my uncle's treadmill. I stretched afterwards and did crunches and loifted weights. I took a shower and washed my hair. I went out on the beach and walked while listening to my lines. I returned with my lines pretty much memorized. My hair had also dried completely -sans use of a blow dryer of any kind. I checked my e-mail. I checked my myspace messages. I made myself lunch and started a new book. I organized my stuff. I played music. I wrote a new verse to a song. I reviewed my parts from last night's rehearsal and sang through my solo. I put all of my music into and neatly organized binder. And now I'm writing a blog. After I finish this I will probably call Thomas and then my sister. I will finish all of this in time to go grocery shopping with my uncle. Then I will make myself dinner, go to rehearsal, and be finished before 10 pm.

This is probably the most productive day I've had in weeks. Most productive for myself and my goals anyway. I am used to being prodcutive for other people. I work for other people in order to make money for myself, of course. It's just very strange to actually be meeting my own goals. Perhaps it is also that I am away from home and therefore am not stuck in catatonic Lauren mode.

It really is surreal. I don't have to worry about much of anything. It is overwhelming. Ha ha.

These are the lyrics for the newest song. It is taking a cue from Regina Spektor and largely rhythm based -a monotone melody on top of a simple repeating base line. I am excited...
________________________________________________________

there is nothing more alarming than a blank page
no more harowing terror than the coming of age
spend the whole of adolescence madly chomping the bit
then you here the pistol fire and
...-what?-...!...Shit!
Go.
Just go

There is nothing that's more frightening than the person I might never be.

there is confiedence and promise right before you begin
assuring you preference
and a natural in
when you're basking in theory
there is not a single query you'll win

Quitters are the only losers -still it's beggers can't be choosers.
If I spend my whole life begging what exactly am I getting?

A pat on the back and a verified statistic --ooh whee!

Kennedy once told us that the key to succeed
Is as big a dare to fail as it is to achieve
still, it's easy to preach
of the courage to reach
from your pampered hampton mansion hamper.

-------------------------------------------
More to come soon...
-L

2006-10-15T08:00:00.000-07:00

Sad news.

Krista and I will no longer be moving in together. We lost the apartment. Now I am not moving to NYC until January.

Krista decided that she doesn't want to live with an actor. In other words, someone like myself who could go away for a month or two and come back. She says she wants something more stable. She is staying at her home in NJ with her parents and I don't think she'll be moving anytime soon.

Fair enough. I understand. I have a feeling this is the first of many similar experiences in my life. I want to be a working actor. That is my priority. That is my life goal. I am not married to anything or anyone but that. A lot of people are not going to want me in their life foor that reason. I am mildly surprised that Thomas puts up with it. Time will tell how long he will be okay with being with someone who doesn't prioritize him.

My entire life I have followed this career like a spiritual calling. I don't act because I think it's a good idea or even so much because I love it. I do it because I would feel incomplete without it. Because it is something I am so deeply entangled with, in love with, obsessed with, that I could not call my own name without it.

Acting is the most ridiculous career of all time. It's based in luck and politics and has very little to do with natural talent and hard work. You need natural talent and hard work but without the other two you're screwed. A person can make it if they're ambitious enough. It's a stupid profession. No one should ever be an actor if they could do anything else. It's the least fair of all professions. You can be a starving writer or a starving artist and even if everyone hates your work you still have the opportunity to create it. Actors are dependent on the script, the performance space, the audience. We can only act alone if we are willing to gather every other aspect of a theatrical performance.

I act because I am good at it. Because I need it. Because there is no feeling more powerful then connecting with a text and communicating that connection to an audience. There is no sensation like two hundred people hanging on your pause because they want to know what's next. Actors are essential because they bring the writing to life. They do what writers cannot do. They represent. They embody. Actors represent the human potential to be anyone- to relate to any situation. We represent human connectivity. That tyrants are as close to us as martyrs- the only difference is the divide of circumstance. You can read a line a thousand times and have it mean nothing. Just a lecture from uni that you tune out in lieu of other thoughts. But a well said line can suddenly connect the dots. You see what the author was trying to get across. I've heard it said that only 7% of communication is in the words. The rest of it is body language. What we are telling you with our physicality and our tone and our facial expression. Important.

I am desperately in love with the theatre. She is my bedfellow and my constant companion. I will defend her honour to my dying day because I believe she is inherently spiritual. Theatre is a ritual. It is necessary even though our contemporrary culture rarely acknowledges it. Sports are a type of theatre. They embody archetypes. Our day to day life is one of enacting archetypes that's why the catharsis oof theatre is so essential.

I have a calling. I hate everything surrounding it. I hate the politics and the criticism. I hate the fact that it will ask me to give up almost everything. But when faced with any kind of ultamatum it is the theatre that I will always run to. Because it is a concept and not a person. Concepts are immortal and unbeatable. To dedicate my life to a person would be to hinge everything on the fragile. To love what I do I am constantly accompanied. I enter in with it. I leave my life with it. I am complete already.

I never want to hurt the people I love because of my own priorities...but perhaps it is too late already. I come without question to her voice. No hesitation as I notice her beaconing me. I am both slave and master to her. Because what I do is who I am. I cannot imagine life any other way.

2006-10-07T23:04:00.000-07:00

So we took the parents to the apartment and they approved. It was such a relief. Krista and I had been freaking out all morning. I don't think I will feel any sense of complete ease until the contract goes through. So much paperwork and so little time to get it all in.

I drive back with my dad tomorrow. Technically, today. I can't sleep. I went to bed four hours ago and woke up restless. My dreams are filled with anxiety and my stomach won't settle for whatever reason. I am going to try going back to sleep after this.

The above pic is of Krista and I off of our apartment's roof. You can't see the background clearly but from the roof you have a clear shot of the water, the NYC skyline, and the statue of liberty. I thought about posting pics of the empty apartment but decided to wait until we have our stuff moved in (post Nov 1rst). Posting pics of an apartment is as bad as showing off 2d Ultrasound pics of your baby. They just looked warped and they're only beautiful to the parents.

If anyone knows of someone who would like a month sublet in NYC with the fabulous Krista, my room is huge and will be avail Nov 10-Dec 10th. You could have a holiday in NYC with a place to lay your head for less than 350 Brittish pounds. Exciting, yes? Tell your friends. I am covering part of the rent for that month so it's a real deal. Okay, I'm done advertising.

The insomniac,
-L

2006-10-06T20:51:00.000-07:00

My Life is an action Movie

A short novella by Lauren Ford

So I've been in NYC two days now and Krista and I were out seeing apts when suddenly I get a call. It's the director from the Florida theatre I auditioned for a MONTH ago. I got cast as Belle in a musical production of "Christmas Carol." It's a good sized paying role in a major theatre in Vero Beach Florida. They are paying to get me there and paying me while I stay with my Uncle and Aunt at their beach house. I am stunned. Almost pissed. Why now? We are in NYC. I could've had a heads up just a tad bit sooner. Krista and I kept our appointment with a broker to be nice. He showed us the most amazing apartment ever. It's in a hispanic neighborhood in southern brooklyn. Not the kind of neighborhood you walk your granny through but perfectly safe. We have the top floor apartment in a brand new building with a brand new elevator. We have two patios, one off of my and Thomas' bedroom. We have a spanking new kitchen with a beautiful fridge, microwave. Best: We have a view of the manhattan skyline. We can see the ocean. From the roof you have a ful 360 of the city complete with a perfect view of THE STATUE OF LIBERTY. It is fucking unbelievable and we are the first people to see it. The broker hadn't even seen this place yet. So Krista and I sign along the dotted lines. Now I've got to find a subletter for Nov 10-Dec 10th (the run of x-mas carol). We move in Nov 1rst which leaves me three weeks of doing god knows what. So I'm catching a ride back to NC with my fatehr who happens to be coming back from his northeast tour. I leave tomorrow with him. This seems the wisest financial move for the next three weeks. I can't imagine living in NJ with Krista''s parents all that time with nothing to do. I can't find a job because I'd be leaving two seconds later. So, in short, two days later I am coming back home. But I left a barista and now I guess I'm coming back a paid actress. Weird, huh?

Thank God my beau is so understanding. He has tickets to NYC on the 14th of Nov. I don't even know how we're going to fix that one. He might be visiting florida. Craziness.

I told Krista tonight that my life purpose must be to educate non-actors about just how strange and flighty this business can be. I am a living example that you don't know when you're enntire life might be uprooted and suddenly you're standing in front of a five hundred seat house singing your best operetic soprano (even though you're more of a mezzo mixing belter) thinking of the apartment, man, and best friend you'll come home to after you're done sunning in Florida. It's either a crazy advertisement for theatre or a hardcore warning. I'm not sure yet.

I am an ever whirling dirvish.
-L

2006-10-05T19:31:00.000-07:00

n NJ with Miss Miester.

Writing our very first blog together.

KRISTA IS CAPS. lauren is little letters

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE A BLOG...WHAT DO YOU WRITE ABOUT? whatever you want really. TELL THEM ABOUT THE VISION OF TREES. HOW SUDDENLY A PLACE GOES FROM SKETCHY TO GREAT WITH JUST A BLOCK OF TREES. YOU KNOW YOU'RE MAKING A STRETCH THEN.... we almost found a place today. we nalmost found two places today. WE ALMOST HAVE THE ENTIRE BROOKLYN SUBWAY SYSTEM DOWN. well, krista does. is still suck. IF ONLY WE COULD MAKE SURE TO ENTER ON THE RIGHT SIDE. yes. we could save a lot of money. metrocardmoney. one word. one concept. so much pain. :::AWKWARD SILENCE::: WE ALMOST MOVED INTO A HISIDIC JEW NEIGHBORHOOD- WELL NOT REALLY- WE WERE JUST TREATED BADLY BY THE REALITORS. THEY WERE HAPPY WHEN WE LEFT. THAT'S OKAY. don't trust men with two single curls. YEAH. I'M NOT SURE HOW I FEEL ABOUT THE SMOKING GIRL...I'VE DONE THAT ALREADY AND I'M JUST NOT SURE.... she sounds like a whore. CLEARLY. no. she referred to pot as "420" I KNOW THEY DON'T LET YOU POST THINGS ABOUT SUBSTANCES...SHE WAS TRYING TO BE COVERT. yeah, real covert. she might as well have called it "happy weed." NO RESPONSE TO THAT. YOU'RE BLOG READERS ARE GOING TO VOTE ME OFF THE ISLAND. FOR ONE, IT LOOKS LIKE I'M YELLING. WHICH, FOR ALL THEY KNOW, I AM. I THINK WE SHOULD SWAP AND CONFUSE THEM .... ALWAYS PLAY WITH THEIR MINDS. HOW DO YOU THINK THEY'D FEEL IF WE MADE ALL OF YOUR BLOGS PIECES OF LEO TOLSTOY? BRING BACK RUSSIAN LIT BIT BY BIT. i think i'd rather torture them with fucking vanity fair. THE NOVEL? yes.n i made it two hundred pages in and still didn't get to the plot. HOW MANY PAGES TOTAL? 900. THEY'RE EASING YOU IN LAUREN,THEY DON'T WANT IT TO BE TOO ABRUPT AND RASH.

(just so you know. this is exactly what it was like all day in brooklyn)

i like this form of blog. just to switch it up. to make people think horizontally, diagonally, upside down, inside out and blown up like a balloon. I DON'T THINK THAT'S WHAT WE WERE DOING. people decide what you are doing for you. just look at art critique. THEY WANT TO CRITIQUE US? of course.

YOU SHOULD ADD A SHOUT OUT TO YOUR MYSPACE PAGE
do you want me to put that in the blog?
NO
oh, okay,

--l
---K

2006-10-05T19:26:00.000-07:00

In NJ with Miss Miester.

Writing our very first blog together.

KRISTA IS CAPS. lauren is little letters

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE A BLOG...WHAT DO YOU WRITE ABOUT? whatever you want really. TELL THEM ABOUT THE VISION OF TREES. HOW SUDDENLY A PLACE GOES FROM SKETCHY TO GREAT WITH JUST A BLOCK OF TREES. YOU KNOW YOU'RE MAKING A STRETCH THEN.... we almost found a place today. we nalmost found two places today. WE ALMOST HAVE THE ENTIRE BROOKLYN SUBWAY SYSTEM DOWN. well, krista does. is still suck. IF ONLY WE COULD MAKE SURE TO ENTER ON THE RIGHT SIDE. yes. we could save a lot of money. metrocardmoney. one word. one concept. so much pain. :::AWKWARD SILENCE::: WE ALMOST MOVED INTO A HISIDIC JEW NEIGHBORHOOD- WELL NOT REALLY- WE WERE JUST TREATED BADLY BY THE REALITORS. THEY WERE HAPPY WHEN WE LEFT. THAT'S OKAY. don't trust men with two single curls. YEAH. I'M NOT SURE HOW I FEEL ABOUT THE SMOKING GIRL...I'VE DONE THAT ALREADY AND I'M JUST NOT SURE.... she sounds like a whore. CLEARLY. no. she referred to pot as "420" I KNOW THEY DON'T LET YOU POST THINGS ABOUT SUBSTANCES...SHE WAS TRYING TO BE COVERT. yeah, real covert. she might as well have called it "happy weed." NO RESPONSE TO THAT. YOU'RE BLOG READERS ARE GOING TO VOTE ME OFF THE ISLAND. FOR ONE, IT LOOKS LIKE I'M YELLING. WHICH, FOR ALL THEY KNOW, I AM. I THINK WE SHOULD SWAP AND CONFUSE THEM .... ALWAYS PLAY WITH THEIR MINDS. HOW DO YOU THINK THEY'D FEEL IF WE MADE ALL OF YOUR BLOGS PIECES OF LEO TOLSTOY? BRING BACK RUSSIAN LIT BIT BY BIT. i think i'd rather torture them with fucking vanity fair. THE NOVEL? yes.n i made it two hundred pages in and still didn't get to the plot. HOW MANY PAGES TOTAL? 900. THEY'RE EASING YOU IN LAUREN,THEY DON'T WANT IT TO BE TOO ABRUPT AND RASH.

(just so you know. this is exactly what it was like all day in brooklyn)

i like this form of blog. just to switch it up. to make people think horizontally, diagonally, upside down, inside out and blown up like a balloon. I DON'T THINK THAT'S WHAT WE WERE DOING. people decide what you are doing for you. just look at art critique. THEY WANT TO CRITIQUE US? of course. did%2

2006-09-30T09:37:00.000-07:00

So I leave in three days. I am scared shitless. Scared of all of it. Scared of commiting to my life. But I guess that's what growing up is all about.
I am planning a leaving party with the five people I still know in Asheville. I want to play twister and apples to apples. Something reminiscent of the good ole' nineties a pre-adolescence. I went to a contra dance on Thursday in which they did a version of "end of the world as we know it." It reminded me of Dyl in high school and when she used to be able to sing along with all the words. I'm lucky if I get the refrain right.
The leaving party will probably be odd. The people I know offhand to invite: Luke, my fabulous archetect friend who is too busy with life to really do anything with me. Doubt he'll show up. Since dropping out of college he is determined to find a new college to attend. Then there's Charla, a wonderful lovable friend who was with me in Ireland. She might come but she is overloaded with schoolwork. It's so weird to have friends in school and be out myself. Then there's Raj. Oh Raj. He hung out with me last night. His sister died two weeks ago. He is backed up on schoolwork, work work, and emotion in general. I went to two ceremonies for Meta in the last two weeks. It was so sad. She was only twenty. Same age as my sister. If he was free I would probably hang out with him constantly. Touchstone to something real. My empathy surprises me. I have an overwhelming amount of it. Part of being an actor I guess.

I have to go out shopping for boots to suit the NYC winter. Why the hell am I doing all of this and for what?
Love,
Lauren

2006-09-16T10:34:00.000-07:00

Here it is: my first blog ever.
Well, at least on this site.
I have tried at least twice to have a steady ongoing blog on several sites but each time I ended up eventually opting for the good ole' pen and paper. But I have decided that it is finally time to officially enter the digital world. I have too many friends in too many corners of the globe and this is, perhaps, my only hope of staying in touch.

I am moving to NYC in two weeks. I am beginning the rest of my life in two weeks. You know, that part of your life you spent so much time talking about you figured it'd never actually come around. Well, it's here. And, apparently, I've already made most of the choices. Whether they work out or not is completely in the air but I seem to have made a lot of huge decisions without even really being aware of it.
The decisions to date:

The place: NYC. The big bad American mega city. North East and decked in New England shit weather. Crowned in blistering heat and decked in bone brittling cold. The place where it's considered bad etiquette to catch a person’s eye in the subway but if you fail to make eye contact in a meeting you're suddenly accused of being unassertive. The city that burns on both ends. Second most expensive rent in America. Where you pay too much to live in a shit hole apartment in a sketchy area of town. The Mecca of museums and culture but still kings of the $2 hot dog and the best pizza in the US. Where you can get any kind of food delivered to your doorstep at any time of night. Dank, dark, depressing. Decadent, delightful, dazzling. Where you go a nobody in the hopes of becoming a somebody. Where women pay thousands to prove to their neighbors that they can afford to wear Prada even on a rainy day. Stepping their thousand dollar soles into the piss probed puddle just outside of the hired car that distinguishes them from the ordinary cab riders. Manhattan. Sultry, smutty, sneering, sordid, scandalous, sickening, sweaty, slobbery. Sleek, Scintillating, stimulating, sparkling, celestial.

The Job: Actress. The worst paid. The best paid. The hardest job. The easiest job. The only thing I can ever imagine doing. My only love sprung from my only hate: solipsism. Manhattan. Solipsist. Amongst geniuses and idiots. Waiting anxiously for my chance to wait in line anxiously.

The Man: Thomas Turnbull. Home composting consultant extraordinaire. Soon to be moving from Scotland to join me in this crazy place in my crazy life. I can only hope it's worth it for him. I feel like a half crazy stressed out actress is not much of a partner but perhaps I will surprise myself.

The friend: Krista "Lil Miss" Oodelally. Best ever.

The cat: Soon to be found and announced.

The hobbies: Swing dancing, knitting, can thrift store and yard sale shopping be considered a hobby?, writing, watching movies, soduko (latest hobby)...

Now that I have mentioned soduko I feel the irrepressible urge to go do one.

Cheers,
Lauren Rose Ford