No Day But (definitely not) Today....

So.......

........so...........

um..........sooooo.........

So.

I didn't get it.

and even though booking RENT just months out of college would have been a dream come true

I feel like this bitch ------------->

Side note:

It cost me $107 to ship my trombone to Ohio.

I paid $120 for it 12 years ago.

Thank GOD for contracts, because my ass would have played the air-trombone to save $107.

and that's no way to sell tickets.

Oh what? I have to attend another opening night on Broadway?

Excuse me while I go SWAG.

What Would Abby Lee Miller Do?,

TJB: Making It







 

How did I get here but more importantly how do I get THERE?

I used to say in college that I was the "almost there kid". You know the one. You have your top three or maybe even top two and you think

(a la Elle Woods)
"It's almost there but..."

That dress was me...only I wasn't hugging the ass of Laura Bell Bundy and her struggling career. I was hugging my own ass and no career.

So when two days had passed since my RENT callback, I assumed I could stop listening to the (coughmoviecough) soundtrack on repeat and focus on my Regional career once again.

AND THEN THEY REMEMBERED HOW AWESOME I AM AND CALLED

That's right, the T-MACHINE wasn't done chewing me like yesterday's leftovers yet. I was asked to come back for the director and creative team.

So yesterday when I sat with my very proud (how far I've come) agent to sign my BAND GEEKS contracts, we chose the window of Starbucks overlooking the stage door of RENT. I could barely focus on the dotted lines as my heart kept hoping these contracts would be useless within 48 hours when I would be ripped away by Michael Greif himself to be yet another Northwestern boy (the last of which I still duck into corners to avoid on 8th Ave.) to star (or at least understudy) in his glorious production.

So with a newly washed bright blue hoodie, I walked my ass through the sweltering heat of Manhattan and up to the casting offices.

NOTE: I was lucky enough to perform after a studly "Collins" from my same agency who had the voice of an African sex god and the body of three African sex gods.

I have the voice of a 16 year old girl and the body of half a 16 year old girl.

Nevertheless, I strutted my lucky skinny jeans into the room, slapped on all the heart I had left and thought of tearing up all future regional contracts to become a REAL New York actor.

and then I GAVE IT.

I pretended I had AIDS and this was the last chance I had to make commentary on America in the last 20th Century or to be a drag queen of questionable origin and percussive skills.

and then it was over...and I thought to myself...

"It's almost there but..."

So who knows world. Will Elle pick me to wear to her failed engagement dinner? That is to say, will Michael Greif pick me to potentially perform as a lead in his musical should one of the real leads be unavailable to perform and hopefully with enough notice for my mom to fly out here?

Only time will tell.

My Mom only cares about the Disney Cruise line,

TJB: Making It

No Day but Today...but hopefully tomorrow too...

When I went off to college, my best friends from high school told me

"Maybe give it a few days before you're...yourself...you know like...don't be all YOU until you give people a chance to...like you first..."

I had no friends for the first three months of college. Sage advice guys...

But for some reason, I took the same approach to starting my career in NYC. I left every audition feeling like I had morphed into some pansy-ass blonde schlep from Michigan who was just so gee-golly excited to be here in the Big Apple with so many talented people.

I remember staring at myself in the mirror (while belting out Disney's "Reflection" a la Aguleira) and HATING myself. There was no way I was going to continuously be beaten out by brunette punks with bad skin or some kid from a STATE SCHOOL. My life was NO joke.

and that's when I adopted my attitude taught to me by one of my favorite teachers and mentors

HIRE ME, OR F*CK YOU

Some of you might call it "confidence", but I call it

HIRE ME, OR F*CK YOU

and guess what, America? It started working

meaning I started working.

This was all well and fine until the day I was called into *GULP*

Telsey & Co.

Maybe this name doesn't send sheer terror shivering down your spine

but that's because you're NOBODY

and Telsey & Co. only deals with SOMEBODIES.

and I was becoming a SOMEBODY.

I knew that Telsey would crush my HIRE ME, OR F*CK YOU straight back to the NonEq tour of The Addams Family and I was panicking. I have no business playing Mark in RENT any more than Joey Fatone did and, unlike him, I surprisingly have no boy-band fame to fall back on.

At this point in panic, most actors would hire somebody for what we call a "coaching" to prepare for the audition. I, unfortunately, did not have $100 to give so that some NYU grad could ask me what my "objective" is...

32 bars and one sustained note does not an objective make.

So I just did what I normally do...put on my brightly colored hoodie, say something awkwardly charming, sing some music like a BALLER and mentally think the entire time

HIRE ME, OR F*CK YOU

and guess what America?

It worked. NO NO NO they didn't hire me, but they did ask to see me again...and with Telsey & Co. and $4 in my pocket, that feels like booking Broadway...

or at least the NonEq tour of American Idiot.

Hey Mom, I might be playing a character with AIDS! 

There are so many empty bottles of shame on my desk,

TJB: Making It

March 22, 2012: The Day I Became a Man

Ever since I entered adulthood at age 18, I dreamed of entering REAL adulthood at the age of 23. I couldn't wait to be out of college and immersed in the real world for an entire year. Upon graduating high school, I told a banquet of my peers "give me 5 years and I'll be on Broadway" because I knew 23 was my year. My soul could feel it. My biological clock (I have one right?) was ticking towards it.

Well, I have to say, dreaming of 23 was much more fun at 18. The day before my 23rd birthday, I stared in the mirror and thought to myself

I'M NOT READY! No way is my life on an upswing. In fact, I had been singing the entire score of Les Miserables to myself for the past month

and that's when you KNOW you're having a gay breakdown. Every time the subway train entered the station, I belted Eponine into the drowning screeches like the group of Latina girls next to me didn't know what was up.

But when I woke up on March 22, 2012...my 23rd birthday...everything changed.

OK well...I woke up an hour and a half late for my Disney audition. I barely had time to warm up some A Whole New World in the shower before sprinting into the studios.

But they LIKED me. In fact, the LOVED me. They asked me back, put me on film, stroked my ego like it was a big black

...cat...

and said they'd be in touch. SURE it could've just been an awkward OK Cupid style "I'll call you" but DISNEY LIKED ME. And that's all I needed on my birthday.

But that wasn't all I was getting...because I'm ME.

My co-star surprised me by planning an entire adventure around NYC. I was given the opportunity to walk across the entire city and fall in love with it once again.

I mean, we ate lunch at HOOTERS for Christ sake. HOOTERS and DISNEY!? I was in alleged-Christian-Heaven.

but the best part came as we were walking across the Brooklyn Bridge for the very first time. I turned around to look at the skyline and whispered

"I love this city"

for the first time in months.

And just as I took my iPhone 4S (the most up to date Apple iPhone I'll remind you) I saw it

a voicemail from my agent.

He had good birthday NEWS.

Just as I fell in love with NYC all over again he told me

I'M GOING TO DAYTON, OHIO BITCHES!!!!!!!!!

That's right. I booked Band Geeks: a new musical about high school kids who play instruments and just want to be cool, but not in a GLEE kind of way...in like a....well yeah in a GLEE kind of way.

and yes...I play a sassy gay kid...

So there it is. Less than 12 hours at 23 and I was already booking shows.

TJB is BACK...and he's about to take Ohio by storm.

Watch out Show-About-Cute-Mormon-Boys-Who-I'd-Totally-Mouth-Kiss...I'm coming for you next...again...

Free to be 23,

TJB: Making It

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