Natalie Portman this is HARD

After my breeze through the Spring Awakening dance call, I've been feeling pretty confident in my moves.

JK I'm still terrified.

When my agent asked if I wanted to attend an appointment for a role that involved ballet, I knew I had no business being there.

Then I looked in the mirror and realized I had SO much business being there...especially once I found out there was a GINGER asked to audition. Talk about a sore thumb onstage.

So, I started stretching daily (the day before) and bought myself a new pair of ballet shoes I knew I probably wouldn't need but made me feel more legit anyway.

When I showed up, the room was filled with boys I had never seen before. Well that's not true...I'm pretty sure one of them is in the ManHunt ads that are all around NYC, but we aren't on a first-name basis...yet.

I turned in my photo and claimed my square foot of stretching space while I watched the others watch the rest of the others watching themselves in the mirrors. Aside from the sing-and-talk-loudly-in-case-you-didn't-see-my-hair ginger, I looked the youngest...and I liked that.

Once we began learning the combination, I realized most of the men had been at the ECC the previous Friday and had already learned the combination. I should have just pretended to be blind...then they CAN'T cut you or it's discrimination. Since I couldn't decide whether to try and forge a fake cane or claim my seeing eye dog had run away, I was forced to struggle through.

But, to my surprise, I was keeping up. My pirouettes looked good! My battements were high! My jetes were

WOMP.

I ate it.

In one grand and dramatic gesture, my legs went out from under me and I fell horizontally to the floor.

I was ruined. My brain shut down. Behind every pair of tank-topped pecs, I could hear the hearts of the dancer boys beat with joy.

Apologies were made, wet paper towels were brought in to wipe the dust and avoid another spill as I was apparently not the first to lick the floor.

But I can't imagine anyone else did it better.

So, when we finished ballet and they told us to wait before switching rooms to do the tap combination I said

OH HELL NO.

No way was this theater going to hire me as a general dancer after my self-inflicted Nancy Kerrigan, so when they all left the room to watch the other group of dancers...

I peaced.

I grabbed my bag, wrapped my scarf around my face, and snuck to the elevators...

as if somebody were going to say, "NO! STOP! WE MUST SEE YOU TAP! YOU WERE BORN TO DANCE IN SACRAMENTO!"

I had McDonald's 4 times this week,

TJB: Making It

I'm Still Here

For a while I was beginning to think that nobody important remembered who I was. My Broadway friends hadn't been Liking my Facebook statuses...my sort-of-bassically-yes-agent hadn't e-mailed me in weeks...hell my own mother was too busy vacationing to even voice text me.

But this week (riding high off my callback karma) began to change things for the better.

The world (and my mother) began to remember that I TOO was important.

It all started when my gay dad (NO not my biological dad and NO not in THAT way, but he is very dashing) and also Broadway veteran texted me to offer two tickets for Nick Jonas's opening night in How to Succeed. Sure, I'd already seen the show, and sure, I could probably only sing the chorus to one Jonas Brothers song, but I knew that this was a sign. My elbows were longing to rub with their fellow famous elbows and this opening night was the place to do it.

I called my restaurant, told them I was too important to work Tuesday night and began trying on outfits.

Then, on my way to the show, it's as if my iPhone 4S (SUCK IT 4) reception had been refreshed and an abundance of e-mails from my sort-of-basically-yes-agent began to pour in to my push notifications (I still don't know what a push notification is).

Not only does my -and I'm just going to say agent now- AGENT read (has read and/or once clicked on) my blog (and thinks...it's...totally...hilarious...surely...) but I'm still getting APPOINTMENTS! AUDITIONS! SEEN!

I mean, if the people from the greater region of Philadelphia theatre think I have the makings of a STAR, he must be convinced now too.

So as I strutted to the show in my borrowed leather jacket...I was feelin pretty Fonzie. I wouldn't have been surprised if some of those flashing cameras in the mob outside were taking pictures of me.

...and yes I checked Playbill.com the next day to see if they did...

...they didn't...

Yet, watching the show amongst my celebrity future-peers was...well...OK it was a little lackluster. 

I was in the front Mezzanine, which was GREAT, but I'm sure T-Swift and Selena Gomez were wondering why I wasn't in the Orchestra...and I was stuck in the row behind Lance Bass which just made me feel SO 2006...

and then that guy from the last season of Project Runway didn't even WAVE at me...like STFU you glued some fish rocks to muslin and you're just going to pretend like I don't exist?

But as I ate my last blue peanut M&M and the lights dimmed for that little Jonas boy to rise from the orchestra pit, the world seemed right. I felt as if he could sense my presence and was calmed that I had come to support him on such a meaningful night.

and then he half-assed his choreo for the next three hours.

Harry Potter would be SO pissed you're riding his coattails.

My Mom hung up on me today,

TJB: Making It

WAKE UP SPRING!

I was getting to a point after several mass Equity auditions where I began to believe they were 100% certified BS.

and then I got a callback.

Sure, it was for a production of Spring Awakening in the middle of Nowheresville, Pennsylvania at a theater that runs a high school talent show as its main event every year, but HEY

a job is a job.

More importantly, this is a job people have been telling me I'm right for ever since it premiered on Broadway back in...back in...that time when I was in high school (Wikipedia is failing me right now).

So that makes the likelihood of not booking it that much worse.

Knowing I already looked the part, I sauntered into my audition, rocked out to some Queen, and waited for the somber director to respond.

Director: Have I seen you before?
Me: (wondering if he's read my blog) No, I can't imagine you have...I'M NEW! (jazz hands...now dying inside)
D: I didn't think so...you're rather...exotic...
Me: (uncontrollable WTF facial expression...maybe he means "Canadian")
D: ...that's a good thing....
Me: then I'll take it
D: Can we do that again?
Me: Sure.
D: Can you give me more?
Me: Absolutely.
D: Do you know what I mean by that?
Me: (No clue) Absolutely!

*TJB sings again giving everything his new-found exotic body has to offer*

D: Is your hair ever...(I've quickly learned he has a habit of wanting me to finish his sentences)
Me: ...pushed back?...(I push my hair back)...shorter?...
D: In the summer. Does it get...lighter?
Me: My hair has been every color under the sun.
D: So you don't mind....
Me: Dying it?
D: Yes...
Me: Not at all.
D: Are you familiar with....(I'm of no assistance on this one)......the show?
Me: (being very unfamiliar with the show) Of course! It's one of my favorites.
D: So you're comfortable with...
Me: ...nudity?...
D: The end of the first act...
Me: When they get naked? Oh yeah.
*AWKWARD SILENCE*
Me: Do you...want me to get naked now?
D: Oh no...if we get that far...come back tomorrow at 2.

AND BAM!! There it is!! All it takes is a few intensely awkward minutes of conversation and YOU TOO can get a callback to any small regional production of your choice.

I came back the next day at 2PM ready to dance. The other boys were in their tank-tops, showing off their bulging muscles. The girls donned their Urban Outfitter "I'm so right for this show" floral print dresses. I quickly found a place on the floor and began my "I'm so going to kick your ass" stretching routine.

When my group was called in to dance I quickly learned that this combination was not so much about being able to kick your face, but being able to pretend like you have just taken a Ziploc full of pills and the world is your enemy but you'll be DAMNED if you're gonna stop dancing. I put on my fuck-the-world face and shook what my mama gave me.

After learning the combination, I was called in the first small group of four...DAMN ALPHABETICAL ORDER. Everyone knows that you want to be in the last group of four so you can keep practicing the combination. I wiped the sweat off my face and did it for Pennsylvania. I assumed the room would finish before any cuts were made.

NOPE.

I saw the director take my resume, write something on the back, and set it to the side. He then stacked the other three resumes and handed them to his assistant. "We can throw these away". JUST LIKE THAT. Spoken as a slap in the face to the entire room.

D: Tyler can you come back and read at 4?
Me: Yeah of course.
D: The rest of you...thank you...you may go.
Me: Can I go too?
D: What do you mean?
Me: I mean this room...it's hot in here...can I leave this room?
D: As long as you're here at 4 you can leave whenever you want to.
Me: Right. Awesome. I'm...gonna...go breathe...I mean leave...now...

Yet another sufficiently awkward conversation for TJB! Thankfully, I could tell the director was still riding off of my "exotic" flair.

I rewarded myself with a Red Bull (Sugar Free of course. Calories EW!) and waited until 4 when we were called into a room. I quickly sized up the competition...6 other boys, mostly tall, a lot of them pretty Jewish looking

and one other pretty blonde...damn him.

We were all handed the same scene to read. The main characters. The beating scene. That's right...

In this scene we would be randomly paired up with one of the females and called in to...spank them...essentially.

and that's where it ends. I took my young and demure partner into the room and used my papers to slap her ass every time she begged for it.

Proud of me yet, Mom?

OH GOD I'VE NEVER WANTED TO BE IN PENNSYLVANIA SO BAD.

Exotically yours,

TJB: Making It

we really do have more fun

It's no secret that sometimes I have a hard time taking my profession seriously.

Well...it's no secret that sometimes I have a hard time taking LIFE seriously, so pretending to be other people as a profession really never had a chance in the first place.

So here I am back in the audition circuit. Since my 30 Rock debacle, I haven't been hearing too much from "my people". I mean, if I can't book a gig playing myself, who are they to believe in me?

Thus, I attend these things called EPAs (Equity Principal Auditions)...and even worse, ECCs (Equity Chorus Auditions).

For those of you not in the BIZ, EPAs are for people who would be appropriate for a lead character in the show. At least, that's what they should be for. They're really just for anyone with a union card that wants to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to stand in a line at 7AM to sign up for an audition 4 hours later. The ECCs are for anyone who can carry a tune and wants to sell their soul for 30 seconds in the hopes of singing some harmonies while walking across a stage for $400 a week (ME PLEASE!).


Now, picture this:

There I was at one of those glorious ECCs for a production of Legally Blonde happening in the suburbs. I'd already had a pretty long day so I knew there would be trouble. As I was crowded into a room filled with the aforementioned harmonic hopefuls we were handed a small green card with a number on it and asked to fill in our name and "experience"...

HOLD ON HERE. I spend endless money on ink to print off resumes and staple them to really hot photos of myself that cost me more than a month's rent JUST so that you'll know my name and experience and you're going to ask me to write it on a small green note card instead?!

I held the note card in my hand and questioned my existence once again.

Then it happened. As I watched some dancer boys whip out clear labels with their resume information printed on them in 10pt. font to peel off and adhere to the small space on the note card under "experience", a fire inside my soul began to RAGE.

and then I did it.

take a peak.

----
Name:Tyler J. Baranski
Audition: Legally Blonde
Experience:
-I went to Northwestern
-I am blonde...
----

I handed over my card, entered the room, and sold my soul for 30 seconds.

Me: "Thank you" (*move to door*)
Casting Director: "So you're a Northwestern boy?"
Me: "That's right"
Casting Director: "And it says...you're blonde..."
Me: (*in the style of Jenna Maroney*) "...yup...legally...so...I guess I'm pretty qualified...enjoy your day!" (*EXEUNT*)

You can keep your $400/wk if I can keep my dignity.

Someday somebody's going to understand my humor.

That someday is likely far away.

I hope my parents haven't turned my bedroom into a craft room yet,

TJB: Making It

You thought that I'd be broke without you...you were right...

Not until this past year was I introduced to my now least favorite term

"survival job"

The survival job comes in many forms...temping...prostitution...selling the few items you own on ebay

and the most popular: waiting tables.

Since I am super popular, guess what I picked?

I waited tables once in my life. I told myself I would never do it again. However, I also did a children's musical once and told myself I would never do it again and look where I landed.

People told me that getting a serving job was really difficult in NYC if you didn't have NYC-table-waiting experience (apparently carrying a plate to a table is SO MUCH DIFFERENT in Manhattan) or unless you had worked years in another restaurant.

I had only spent 2 months waiting tables in Michigan 5 years ago so I thought it would take weeks to convince some schmuck to hire me...then I remembered I'm TJB...so it only took 2 days before I had 3 offers.

And now I hate my life (more than I did before) as I subserviently carry plates of oysters and shaved lamb to young professionals trying to impress the hot chick that wouldn't date them 3 years ago at UCONN but are impressed that you'd splurge for that $30 bottle of Red you describe as having "earthy undertones"...

that's because there's dirt in it.

So CHEERS America.

and tip your waiter.

because we're all just trying to survive.

I need to borrow some money Mom,

TJB: Making It

Don't Look at Me

I've been home for just over a week now, and while it's been one of the best Christmases ever, I've run into about everyone I ever knew growing up.

and I've had only 2 different conversations.

Version #1:

Person: So what have you been doing?
Me: Well, I just went on tour with a musical. It wasn't huge but it was really fun and...
Person (interjecting): OH I KNOW! I've been reading your blog!! You're a CELEBRITY! I am so proud of you.
Me: **turning red and embarrassed at the insignificance of my life yet flattered by the compliments**

Version #2:

Person: So what have you been doing?
Me: Well, I just went on tour with a musical. It wasn't huge but it was really fun and...(waiting for them to cut me off with aforementioned celebrity talk)...and well...actually I shouldn't undermine my achievements, I've actually been really successful since graduating. I feel blessed. The tour was great and I worked with some really famous people, but I'm so glad to be back in Manhattan...New York City...living the dream.
Person: So...you're unemployed now...are you waiting tables?
Me: **turning red trying so hard to not punch them and put their meek existence into place**

 The thing is America, I've realized no matter how famous I (inevitably) become, there are just some people who aren't going to want you (the proverbial "you") to succeed. No matter how much you wave your brand new, sparkling white iPhone 4S (SUCK IT BLACKBERRY) and assure them that their life is JUST as important and inspiring as yours...

they're going to want to bring you down.

And to that I say:

I love you Frankenmuth. You birthed me and raised me and taught me everything I know...until Northwestern taught me everything else I know...

and together, the two of you have taught me that some people are just one big C.

and I'm kicking your ASS at words with friends,

TJB: Making It

Friendz R 4 Photos

From L to R: Hot, Hot, Hottest

Once upon a time, a friend of mine gave me some solid advice regarding the key to being successful...

"just be YOU"

and I think that's advice we can all use to gain success.

Just...be me.

but since we can't all be ME...just surround yourself with other attractive people who are LIKE me.

That's what I do.

So since I'm ME and I'm surrounding myself with successful and attractive people who are LIKE ME...

Shit...I'm going to be SUPER successful.

#Maths

and like they say

"Always keep smiling. You never know who's photographing you."


So much bone structure,

TJB: Making It