I Ask You.

Yesterday, I worked my ass off for an audition, and didn't even get to read. The girl who did get to read was a homely looking thing of about 5 feet with an ingenue dress and character shoes. My agents told be they wanted "earthy" and "punky," so I wore a jean skirt. Riiiight.

Then off to my massively expensive singing lesson. I am thinking at this point what is the point. She says I have a beautiful instrument and can't believe that I haven't had any formal training. She doesn't want me to audition for a couple months (no problem there) and focus on my vocal training with her. "You can work a lot" she says. But the question is, do I want to go through this BS time and time again. It's just depressing.

In better news...the play I am assistant directing opens this Friday. It makes me laugh, so check it out: "Daniella Uses Dirty Words"

I am in Queens all day Saturday rehearsing then doing a reading (of a play that I really can't say I enjoy-for numerous reasons that I won't get into). It's soldout in Queens and hopefully it will be when we do it at Culture Project on Monday. Supposedly there is a lot on industry coming and perhaps a famous playwright or two. Hey, its some extra buckage, what can I say. I do think I need to start screening what I agree to do from now.

Alright, alright. End of bitch session. I'll end on a warm, fuzzy note:


Now on display in Washington. Does Washington deserve this piece of preciousness?...okay, okay enough.
Peace and Love. Peace and Love.