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

Sometimes It's Not About Me...but it is...

I have already had quite a few moments where I've felt like a celebrity in my life. As it is almost Christmas, I am feeling quite sentimental, and am reminded of a time just over a year ago when I was asked to give the toast at my sister's wedding.

You hand me a microphone and I will make it a night to remember.

Sadly, my toast was never caught on tape (neither was my tear-jerking rendition of "In Whatever Time We Have") but I have recreated it here to the best of my memory to be documented for years to come.

As my sister is one of my biggest fans, I dedicate today's blog post to her and her husband who has just returned from Iraq. A beauty and a hero...quite a pair.

Merry Christmas to Morgan and Michael.
-------------
Through the process of this wedding I have learned a few things about love. As we heard at the ceremony today, the Bible has given us a definition of love we've read for centuries...but I'm not sure I entirely agree. Therefore, I present to you a revised letter to the Corinthians:

Dear Corinthians,

It turns out...love is not so patient. My sister and her husband have known each other for what? Three weeks now? And based on some of the verbal exchanges I have had with my sister during the decision making process of this wedding...love is not so kind either. Then you throw in the outrageous amount of money our parents have spent for the decorations and the limo and the dress and there is DEFINITELY some boasting going on here.

So then...what is love?

Well, modern science will tell us that love is just a series of chemical reactions, a mammalian drive not much different than hunger or thirst. Modern psychology will tell us that love is a cognitive and social phenomenon. Throw all that on top of religion and it seems we have no clue exactly what love is.

And yet love is something that consumes our entire lives. We all seem to want it, but once we have it, we're not entirely sure what to do with it.

Turn to your right and then turn to your left. Chances are, you "love" at least one of those people. Some of you have "loved' that person for years if not decades.

Love has been the reason for war. Love has cost lives and created lives.

"I love you" are considered the three most powerful words one can use in a phrase.We start off worrying we say it too much...and then once it's gone we're worried that we didn't say it enough.

We say "all you need is love"...and still we have no idea what love is.

And I think that's what's most exciting about it. Corinthians, we don't need to define love to know that we need love.

A wise man named Gandolf once told me "all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us".

So...why not choose to love?

Ladies and gentleman...Corinthians...if you would raise your glasses and join me in a toast to the most beautiful bride I've ever seen and the luckiest man alive...who have just made the smartest decision of their lives...

to love.

------

To love,

TJB: Making It

that time I could have been on my favorite TV show...

For the past month or so, I've spent every free minute I've had re-watching every season of 30 Rock. 

I have been living, breathing, and eating...while watching 30 Rock.

One night I came back to the apartment to find my roommates pasting pictures to poster boards. They were "vision boarding". Apparently, that's when you cut things out from magazines and glue them to a a poster board to hang on your wall and inspire you for the coming year to help you reach those goals.

Yes, they all have BFAs.

But since I had a B.A. (Ok, a Bachelors of Science, but  BS sounds so crude...) I felt OK and slightly elitist enough to join.


The first picture I pasted on it?

A promo picture for 30 Rock. 

So when I got a call from my Agent-That's-Not-My-Agent-But-Is-Increacingly-More-My-Agent that went like this:

"Hey Tyler. So I have an audition for you tomorrow. It's for a little show called 30 Rock"

YOU CAN IMAGINE I FREAKED!

Even better: the character breakdown.

"JEROME: 18-21. Blonde. Gay. Very attractive and self-centered. Acts quite a bit like JENNA (Jane Krakowski)."

The description should have just said

"JEROME: 18-TJB. TJB. TJB. Very TJB. Acts quite a bit like TJB (TJB). Seriously, just call TJB."

So I started my day off on top of my game. I left the apartment with more than an hour to spare and hit the subway with a spring in my step.

A few stops later I realized I had forgotten my headshot and résumé. My heart stopped. My day could now go two ways:

1. I could show up incredibly early without it and look completely unprepared.
2. I could go back since I had plenty of time and risk something terrible happening that makes me late and end up with them never even asking me for it.

WHAT? Number 2 sounded like quite the plot set up.

I ran to the street and hailed a cab back to the apartment...and then hit every red light on the way.

Once I grabbed my backpack I had exactly half an hour to get to the audition...the perfect amount of time.

So...I got on a train and it was delayed due to high traffic. AWESOME OH PERFECT BECAUSE I REALLY NEEDED ANOTHER BLOG POST.

As I crawled through each station I kept checking my watch (and by that I mean phone, but for literary purposes, watch sounds better). Every person who bumped into me had no idea how close to their death they had just come. I was ON EDGE and about to jump.


As I hit the 10 minute mark I had two new options.

1. Make it to the right station and run across Times Square to Rockefeller Plaza which would get me there on time but covered in sweat.
2. Run back up to the street and hail a cab which could easily get me there on time if there was zero traffic, but if there was any traffic I would probably get stuck in it far too long, causing me to get out and run anyway.

What? The number 2 is sure hitting its mark today with plot advancing.

So I jumped in the cab and said "GET ME TO 30 ROCK AS FAST AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE" as if this man knew Tina Fey was hanging in the balance.

And as we rounded the first corner we came to a stand-still...so now I was forced to do the embarrassing.

I had to call my Agent-Who's-Not-Really-My-Agent-And-Will-Now-Be-Even-Less-Of-My-Agent and tell him what happened.

He sounded incredibly understanding...so...that's not really helping my plot...so...pretend he didn't answer.

The cab made it a few blocks away when we hit another huge line of traffic and I told him to pull over and let me out.

"I'LL JUST HAVE TO RUN!" I said in my best Manhattan Action Movie voice.

I got out and began sprinting down 5th Avenue and turned the corner onto 49th. As I stopped to catch my breath and find my destination, I looked up to see...no Rockafeller Plaza.

I HAD BEEN SPRINTING IN THE WRONG DIRECTION!!!

I turned around to search the sky and found it behind me. With tears in my eyes, I forged on.

I sprinted into the lobby, checked in at NBC and rode the elevator up in shame.

And when I showed up to casting? They acted like it was no big deal and probably for the best since 10 minutes before that the room was packed....

which isn't really good for my plot so...let's pretend that the intern had to beg for me to be seen...

SO...I auditioned for my favorite TV show knowing that in 12 hours I could be sitting in hair and make-up waiting for my BIG BREAK!

And since I should still be filming and yet I'm here writing my blog I can confidently say that there must be a way cuter 18-21 year old blonde gay boy in NYC...

and he's my new FRENEMY!

My bank account is crying,

TJB: Making It

It's Not Easy Being (formerly) Green

My only plan for this entire weekend was to drink every night. Sorry Mom, sorry liver, sorry life.

I mean, I'd just been through Hell, I deserved a bottle of SOMETHING.

and yet, not a single beer has touched my lips. No shots either...I promise.

Instead, the weekend was filled with emotions. New emotions...not the emo shit that's filled this blog thus far.

OK actually yeah just more emo shit.

I'm working with another agent-that's-not-my-agent. I suddenly know how every guy I "sort of dated" felt like...Sorry dudes.

That being said, I had yet another audition to prepare for that show I'm still not advertising.

and it went great! Phenomenal! I sang better than ever! They loved my voice! Everyone (the two people in the room) was smiling! They liked me SO much they (one person) asked me to come back the next day and tap.


...and we'll leave it there for now or I risk finishing this bottle of Merlot prematurely...

But my focus this weekend could be diverted from the life of an actor for my F15 Bros were in town. The New Hotness had arrived!

My Men in Green hit NYC and I had front row seats!!

Worst. Idea. Ever.

A wise man (my father) once said that Americans are afraid to take vacations from work because we can't handle the idea that our jobs can continue without us as if nothing ever changed.

Well, America...I am not afraid to admit that I can no longer watch F15 perform because I can't handle the idea that the group can continue without me as if nothing ever changed.

OK, sure, some things changed. Their Hotness Factor did slip a few points with one less beautiful blonde boy and there was a significant lack of belting...but other than that they were...hot...without me.

The worse part was I couldn't even party with them after the show because I had to wake up for that audition (perfect that and audition for a religiously themed show was on a Sunday...).

So where does that leave me now America?

Jobless and Bro-less.

#less

Oh wait what? F15 party tonight? In Manhattan? Yeah I'll be right over.

Sorry Mom, Sorry liver, sorry life,

TJB: Making It

The Final Curtain

Given our track record, we knew this final day would be one to remember.

As we hit the 6:30 a.m. call time, we were still missing Mr. Franklin. Train trouble. Now, I'm not exactly sure where Brooklyn is, nor do I have any hopes of finding out in the future, but if I were coming from "Brooklyn" I would probably allow myself a solid 2 hours to reach the sacred isle of Manhattan.

Franklin did no such thing. So, when the train did not come, neither did Franklin.

Half an hour later, we sped to his rescue.

The school had already given us a 10 minute window to unload our set...we would not make that window. Part of me was hoping we could just cancel the show altogether and really bookend this tour the right way. Full circle!

But there we were at the school with masses of 5-10 year old children exiting their buses...the most beautiful, white (plus one equally beautiful token black child), upperclass, future ivy league Connecticut children you have ever seen. They wreaked of money.

And there to greet us was one of their mothers...a vision...the most beautiful, white, upperclass, former ivy leaguer's wife carrying her Marc Jacob bag and smiling like a Crest ad. I melted in her presence. Instantly, we were calmed.

And when the emergency alarms went off in the middle of our 20 minute build time and we had to evacuate the buildling for 15 minutes

(because why would the last day be easy?)

I didn't even care...because SHE was there whispering to us that everything would be OK. And I believed her.

And everything was OK. Despite having to perform our show on a stage the size of a New York City living room, we gave it our all one last time.

I even had a tear in my eye as I out-sang the African Princess in one final belting battle. Poor girl doesn't know what hit her.

Plus, the children loved it. Those money-birthed nanny-raised children clapped like Christmas had come early.

We left champions.

AND THEN WE HAD TO MOVE OUR SET INTO STORAGE LIKE THE MANUAL LABOR WHORES WE ARE AND HAND WASH THAT STUPID VAN AS IF MY PARENTS DIDN'T JUST PAY FOR ME TO GO TO NORTHWESTERN.

but then I got my Equity card.

useless piece of paper, I'll probably never work again...

How did these shots get poured,

TJB: Making It

One Day More: Les MISERABLE

HELLFIRE

Did you know even though I'm a young, attractive, wealthy white American, I can still file for unemployment? With one day left of work and my last paycheck already in my bank account, I'm seriously considering.

Apparently you can even do it online...I imagine that's because the other young, attractive, wealthy white Americans would rather not walk down to the Unemployment Office to get the dirty stares from those who are not young, attractive, wealthy white Americans.

However, as a strong blonde Republican, I still can't bring myself to stoop so low.

But thank GOD unemployment is still a taxable income or where would our country be?

Now let's talk about my last day of employment.

As of this morning, we (the people) thought the show would be canceled. That's because the stage dimensions are 10 ft. shy of our contracted requirements in each dimension.

BUT OH NO! SCREW THE CONTRACT! Who needs those? We'll just have to re-stage the show and do without half the set.

Given what this show has evolved into the past weeks, the LAST thing this 60 minute "rock opera" (as they called it in Massachusetts) needs is a readjustment.

All hell is about to break loose on Bumfuk, CT.

At least it's for young, attractive, wealthy white Americans.

DO careers happen after children's theatre,

TJB: Making It