at least my headshot's pretty

My blog had a pretty controversial start back at Northwestern when I reviewed the Junior Musical Theatre "Showcase". 

I say "Showcase" because I really want to drive home the controversy. Use your imagination and run with it.

This past week, my sense of time was f*cked as I attended the now SENIOR Musical Theatre (and "Acting") Showcase.

WHOW WAIT. Almost an entire year has passed since I was up on that stage performing for the who's-who of the NYC "industry".

I say "industry" because I was sitting amongst them. I can only imagine there were countless other "industry professionals" who had just as much business holding a ballot as I did.

So here's your first lesson of "the BIZ" Northwestern Musical Theatre Showcase Seniors...

Not everyone who seems important really is.

Don't get me wrong, I'm INCREDIBLY important...but there's no reason to get upset because I didn't ask for your picture and resume and only wanted to call in one of you for a meeting. I probably called that person in for a meeting because I thought they were cute, or they made me laugh once amidst some cacophony.

(Calm down...I didn't really fill out a ballot...but BOY IF I HAD...)

The reality is, you have EVERYTHING to be proud of. Maybe you signed with an agent and you'll be on Broadway tomorrow...and by tomorrow I mean NOT BEFORE ME OR THE DOG GETS IT.

If anything, you just had your first HUGE flop on a New York stage...and if you can bounce back from that, then you are in the right profession. If you cried because Telsey Rubin (or whatever their name is) didn't call you in to play Elphaba next week, choose your summer internship NOW. Make it in fashion or marketing because God knows those industries are WAY less judgmental.

When I was thrown back to Northwestern from the scarring experience of my Northwestern Musical Theatre (and "Acting") Showcase, I promised myself that for those last 3 months of college, performing didn't matter. I had 3 months to suck up as much life and fun as I could before I  crawled back to beg forgiveness from New York Shitty and I was going to LIVE.

and those were the best 3 months of my life.

So GO WILDCAT GO! Go be bitter and refuse to buy a ticket to Waa-Mu because you didn't get cast. Do Chicago Showcase in the vain hope that your "belting" will sound any better than it did in New York. But at the end of the day remember...

You'll get your Equity card before all those little shits.

So much iced coffee in my veins,

TJB: Making It



 

Whatever happened to FUN!?

I currently own three pairs of shoes in which the right shoe only has half of the sole attached.

Talk about pounding the pavement.

So on Sunday night when I received a text from my agent-who-is-increasingly-my-agent to attend a celebrity book premiere, my first thought was of course...

"I have to buy new shoes".

My second thought was

"Wait...what?...ME?"

and my third thought was

"OF COURSE ME!"

This is the moment I had been waiting for! Finally I would be amongst my peers (including that little pixie boy who won Project Runway and that gay from Bravo...yeah that one...no, the Jewish one...). I felt like I was in 5th grade again at the cool kids lunch table with people I never talked to but knew I was expected to be friends with.

My dreams were unfolding. All I needed in life was a room full of "celebrities" and an open bar...oh just champagne? What kind of champagne? I've never heard of that...

OK, well...

All I needed in life was a room full of "celebrities" and some free off-brand champagne.

I guess that's what you get when the memoir is about a recovering addict...

Don't worry kids, the book premiere of Making It will have a full open bar...unless I've been to rehab in the next year...

which is likely if I keep being rejected by Disney.

DON'T YOU KNOW I GAVE YOU MY CHILDHOOD?!

BRB I have to practice some showtunes on the trombone,

TJB: Making It

I'm like REALLY smart...

Though I was gifted by God with this bone structure and beautiful hair and wrote in a time capsule when I was 10 that I wanted to be a famous actor/singer when I grew up, my life was not always as obviously bound for success as you may think.

This past week, two of my fellow bound-for-fame friends (as if I have any other kind) sent me a video they had created as part of their new company. The video was to promote a book by the poet Taylor Mali and the poem in the video was "What Teachers Make". I mean, just watch it bitch, I ain't no salesman.

Now, I was not familiar with this poet or this poem before the video. I do not like to wrap myself up in such wasteful things as "emotions", but I couldn't help it. Something reminded my heart how to feel and the past 16 years of education flowed into me.

I suddenly remembered how I had made it here.

My teachers.

Suddenly I wanted to pick up my iPhone 4S and dial every one of their LG flip phones (because we all actually know what teachers make) to thank them.

Thank YOU to my high school chemistry teacher that made me think for a hot second all I wanted to do was teach kids about calorimetry and letting me tell everyone I had a crush on her so I could stay in the closet for an extra year. You really taught me that if you want to learn anything you have to motivate yourself and swallow your pride to ask for help, and then the world was my oyster.

Thank YOU to my high school Forensics teacher (NOT science...it's drama...it's weird...it's a Michigan thing...probably for schizophrenics) for giving me an outlet to perform every week and a taste of stardom. I got to feel what it's like to walk into a room and have everyone fear you.  You taught me how good it feels to WIN and how humbling it feels to LOSE.

Thank YOU to my high school choir teacher who also kicked my ass in English because you taught me I can ACE (yes I said ACE) the SAT and ACT Grammar sections and not care a THING about grammar (as my blog has shown). But, as long as I can belt my heart out at the end of the day, both my mind and soul are happily fed. I will never regret dropping physiology to rejoin you amongst the music. I will never diagram another sentence...nobody will...

Thank YOU to my senior year AP English teacher who supported me through changing my life path in my final weeks of high school. Your passion for what you do showed me that I could never have gone through life fulfilled as a doctor or a lawyer. The passion you instilled in me for writing is why anybody is even reading this. And by the way, I totally called you were going to be principal and I think you owe me like $20 from the bet...but I trust you remember.

and finally

Thank YOU to my college acting professor. True Gold. My biggest goal is to end up on your stage once again. Your classroom was one true place where I felt at peace with life. You taught me that 95% of what I learned will be bullshit to me, but I have clung to that other 5% and it is making all the difference. When I pee my pants on stage, I will think of you.

And sure, these are just the few teachers who I can guess would actively read this blog someday so I'm covering my ass but...

What do these teachers make? Well, the last one probably makes a significantly larger amount per paycheck, but that's not what's important.

What these teachers MAKE are STARS.

Me.

I can only hope the rest of the world is half as grateful as I am.

My favorite jeans are stained with fry grease,

TJB: Making It

The Gospel of TJB

Those of you who know me know that

I'm an extremist.

I don't really know what that word means, but I feel like claiming to be an extremist makes me an extremist.

I am what I am.

Many actors like to say they were "born" to play certain roles. I don't think I was born to play certain roles. I think I was born to reproduce and carry on the word of the Lord through the scripture and BAAAHAHA...ok I lost my straight face (pun intended) but I really tried to keep that going.

I was not BORN to play certain roles. I AM certain roles...or rather...certain roles are ME.

Sad to say America that one of those roles is not a white faced alien who can only communicate through music and replicating instrumental noises. I'm sure you're all as crushed as I am.

However, one of those roles is indeed a flamboyant boy band member of the Catholic persuasion who sings really really high.

AND YOU WONDER WHY IT'S NOT ON MY RESUME ALREADY. I know...tell me about it...

So when I went to an OPEN CALL (after which I promised myself for a second time NEVER AGAIN) and was asked back to the dance call where I gave them a REALLY SOLID 16 counts of dancing before pausing and staring blankly for the next 16 and ending on a really sassy high kick before swaggering offstage "brushing it off" in a last ditch effort to appear calm and cool

I thought I was done.

But when you ARE a role
or rather
a role IS you (and by you I mean ME)

they call you back.

IF I DO NOT BOOK THIS THERE IS NO GOD.

(JK God...ha...I knew you'd read this so...ha...it's funny right?...PLEASE LET ME BOOK IT)

During this Lenten season, I am pulling my rosary out of the sock drawer and praying to Mary and Joseph and all 3 Kings that my years of struggle as a Catholic queer finally pay off.

so I can afford my rent.

You can stop sending me audition notices Mom,

TJB: Making It

sometimes second is better than first

If you've been reading my blog since the beginning, you won't be surprised.

If you haven't been reading my blog since the beginning...you seriously need to give up one of your 5 TV shows and an hour of Netflix a day to catch up.

Most of you know by now how an actor's life works. I'll explain it in a way that will cause every actor reading this to call me out on technicalities because they feel I falsely represent their lifestyle (similar, say, to SMASH), but every other person reading this will just say, "Oh yeah, I get that".

First, there's the initial AUDITION. You walk in a room, you sing, sometimes you read a few lines, and then you awkwardly stare at the people hoping they'll say they want to see you again. If they don't say it to your face, you instantly leave the room and say, "OMG I was terrible; they hated me!"until you receive a call from a casting director or agent saying you got a CALLBACK...then you say, "Oh yeah, I knew I was great".

The CALLBACK is when you're told what to prepare, and you generally perform for more people. After the callback, you wait 6-12hrs. before you assume you didn't book the gig. Then, you ponder giving up and buying that LSAT book.

But sometimes, there's what we like to call the SECOND CALLBACK (and this is where actors will say it's not that simple because sometimes there are more than two callbacks to which I say THEY'RE JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU!)

The SECOND CALLBACK is when your agent tells you he almost forgot to tell you that the show is still interested in you and they want to see more!!

And I, my dear readers, have received my first second callback ever...at least for as long as I felt like trying to remember before I was distracted by Dance Moms.

Now, here's the NOT surprise to my dedicated followers (I'll call you FANS).

Fans, I have received a second callback for...I'm not even going to TELL you...I mean it's only fitting...

BUT If I book this show you're all getting free tickets! Or at least a really cute discount code like ALIENLUV or BWAYUFO.

I ate a quart of ice cream to celebrate,

TJB: Making It

you're the one that we DON'T want

After starting off the week with a bang (caused by my head making contact with the floor) and hitting hump day with some weird alien show, I needed to end the week with a bang...

...this time the metaphorical kind that means I did something really well...

but as I rounded the corner for my Grease audition, I was greeted by the worst omen EVER.

the sing-and-talk-loudly-in-case-you-didn't-see-my-hair ginger

That's right folks! The very same ginger that now, in hindsight, I can see caused me to fall to the floor in my dance call due to the sheen of his ghastly red glowing mop top.

The hallway was empty except for him, me, and the audition monitor he was deep in conversation with...BECAUSE GINGERS CAN'T STOP TALKING.

When another boy walked up, the ginger was quick to assert his dominance and made it clear he had worked with this theater before and knew all about how they like to run auditions...that or he had just auditioned for them 5 years running and had figured out what hasn't been working. I'm hoping for that one, but I couldn't make him crack. Even the monitor couldn't correct the flame-throwing cranium.

I felt doomed...

because let me walk you through this:

I was already having a pretty solid (rough) week. My paycheck was dismal, my auditions were either atrocious or caused me to take long, hot sob-showers, and my mom kept texting me about taxes.

SO...in preparing for my Grease audition, I thought it would be a GENIUS idea to play a song on the ukelele during the scene.

Do I play ukelele? No.
Could I maybe learn in two days? Sure.

I call this my "personal self-destruct button". Based on my one-sided (not my side) conversation with the ginger, the audition room was going to LOVE (meaning HATE) this.

SO...I walked in with my ukelele, sat it next to the piano, sang my 16 bars they asked for, and prepared to pick up my ukelele and read the scene as they said,

"Thanks! That's all we need to hear today"

along with

"You smell AMAZING!"

I'M SORRY BUT HAVING A UKELELE IN THE ROOM AND NOT USING IT IS THE SAME AS HAVING A GUN ONSTAGE AND NOT USING IT! DO NOT DROP MY CURTAIN EARLY! WAIT FOR THE BANG!

but thanks, it's BVLGARI.

I grabbed my ukelele and burst out of the room directly into some girl from Broadway. She's the one who (spoiler alert as if you care) dies in Little Women...I guess that was her shining moment, but if you see her, you should tell her your opinion on switching from Chase bank to the Actor's Federal Credit Union. It seems to be high on her worry list because

SOME OF US DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM BOOKING SHOWS.

Dance Moms makes me wish I was 8 again,

TJB: Making It

a cappell-NO

Yes, I auditioned for this.

Yes, I got called back for this.

Let's leave it at that.

Proud of me F15?

Could my cheekbones even shine through all that makeup?

WHO ARE WE KIDDING I WANT IT SO BAD!

How is white face OK,

TJB: Making It