AshleyFlys.com - tales of travel, torrid affairs, and a hatred for DELTA » coffee

Watching Stupid Actors Is Better Than Going to the Zoo

Ashley — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 16:48:47 +0000

Oh. My. Goodness.

I’m presently experiencing the next best thing to driving around South Africa, oogling up-close rhinos on an experimental “do it yourself” safari tour.

I’m in a Starbucks. In central Hollywood. Four feet away from me… there are actors rehearsing.

Now, I’m not talking Broadway “star” types, that would be far less exciting – and you wouldn’t find second-string Simba or The Phantom running lines in a commercial chain California coffee house anyway. These are Brand NEW Actor-Types (BNATs), obviously going to the Super Method Acting School around the corner from here (I know, because I went there for a spell before getting kicked out for non-conformity), where you pay $600 a month to essentially join a cult and cry once a week in front of your balding, over-the-hill classmates.

These BNAT’s are only table away from me — dressed in every piece of black they could find in their wardrobes, have matching little “artist hats”, and are theatrically flailing around brand new (uncreased, unread) Drama Book copies of whatever basic play they’ll be attempting scenes from. I’m trying not to stare.

…

Aw, to hell with it, let’s name them!

We’ll call the guy… Trundle… and the chick… Gertrude. YES. TRUNDLE and GERTRUDE. Now, I’m going to directly transcribe a few of the idiot dribblings that are being flung from the mouths of these creatures. No editing. Here we go:

______

Gertrude: So we’re in the car in this scene. We’re driving. Should we, like, move around like a car?

Trundle: Maybe. If we want to establish truth. This is Method.

Gertrude: Right. Method.

______

Are you listening to this? These two are seriously discussing — and I mean, “like, for-seriously!” — discussing whether to mimic the movement of a VEHICLE during an acting class.

No offense to the mentally challenged — because I’ve volunteered for the mentally challenged — but ARE THESE TWO PEOPLE RETARDED?!

_____

Gertrude: So… like, there’s a kiss in between these words, here. Do we have to do the kiss in front of, you know — like, the class? Like in front of the teacher?

Trundle: Well… not many girls are going to go that far. Not many girls have that much invested in this character — I think we should show them, like in the room, that you’re really invested in Blanche’s character.

Gertrude: Really? You think?

Trundle: Yes. I do. I mean, this was one of the greatest novels of all time, so we need to do it justice. For the the guy, you know, the poet who spent half his life writing it and other things… for our careers, you know, for your character…

Gertrude: Blanche? I’m playing Blanche, right?

_____

Oh… my… goodness. I’m about to throw up into my triple shot Macchiato… did Trundle just refer to A Streetcar Named Desire as a NOVEL, and Tennessee Williams as a poet?!

_____

Trundle: The way I’m sitting right now… you know, the way I look right now… do you think this is a good look for the scene? You know, the black and stuff?

Gertrude: Yeah!

Trundle: You know, because I grew up in like, Connecticut, but the bad part of the Connecticut… like, I have a lot to give. I’ve seen alot. That’s why I became an actor. I want to show the world my pain. Like Pucino.

Gertrude: Wow… you have so much to show an audience, like, experience…

Trundle: Yeah, I don’t even really need to be in this class. I met an agent from ICM on Facebook the other day. He really thinks I should be out there just working, you know?

____

THIS is where I accidentally let out a snort that’s so explosively loud, the two of them turn around and stare at me. They’re both so collectively offended I can’t hold it in anymore. I begin laughing. Uncontrollably.

Trundle’s eyes are like fire.
____

Trundle: Let’s go rehearse at my place, Chrissy, this obviously isn’t a good WORK ENVIRONMENT anymore.

____

At this point I’ve put my Starbucks cup over my mouth, and I am laughing INTO it. Good work environment, Trundle? IT’S A @#$%-ing STARBUCKS!

Trundle and “Chrissy” (I’m still of the opinion that Gertrude is more fitting), huff and glare as they loudly gather their things, slamming and crushing scripts into Actors Connection branded messenger bags, and scraping the chairs against the floor as they roughly push them in.

And finally… glowy, exfoliated chins vaulted higher than the Nora Jones blasting ceiling stereo system, the two young Almost Method actors march out of the Starbucks, simmering and visibly attempting to kill me with their bad energy.

I smile into my mocha.

Sorry, guys. Even with three Basic Meisner classes under your belts — you still can’t even pronounce Stanislavski properly, much less successfully mind slaughter me for laughing at your idiocy. Good effort, though.

I love actors.

Happy Sunday.

– Ashley Avis

RETARDED ACTORS – Leave My Remnants of Sanity In Peace

Ashley — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 19:07:30 +0000

So I wake up this morning, ridiculously and blissfully content for the first time in weeks… I shuffle down the stairs, looking around for coffee through the I-went-to-bed-at-4-am eyeball blur… find said coffee, microwave it… sit down…

“I WANT A FUCKING REFUND FOR MY WEBSITE YOU F-ING…”

I won’t go on much further for the sheer amount of profanities that were idiotically strung about through yet another one of these psychotic webdesign client emails. Back in January (on my birthday, more specifically) I had some asshole get hold of my client files for the past three years and email absolutely everyone telling them how easy it was to do a credit card chargeback.

Granted, there were a few folks that didn’t get resume updates for the month and deserved refunds. Like, FIVE of them. And even though nobody but their parents/relatives/significant others were LOOKING at the freakin’ website anyway — in the theory of things, they deserved to get some money back. And they did.

However — all of these crazy people decided to jump into an email string screaming Class Action Lawsuit, Chargeback, and KILL ASHLEY! Jesus christ. SORRY, you pathetic people that have eight hours a day to spend theorizing on how to put a hit out on me because your SELF PRODUCED REEL didn’t get optimized for the measly TEN DOLLARS you paid to have it done — here’s your refund — but GET A LIFE, ALREADY!

Some of these nutters even went as far to research me, find out who I’m dating (The Boyfriend is a brilliant photographer), string together that OH MY GOD — we did some cross promotions together that OH MY GOD were actor affordable and OH MY GOD how could we possibly be working together?! It’s a conspiracy!!! LET’S DO A CHARGEBACK!

I really hate working with Wannabe Actors Who Think They Have Careers But Really Don’t Because They Suck And/Or Are 40 And Still Working the Temp Desk.

And if the “radicals” find this post they’ll freak out and try to report THIS to the BBB, too.

Coffee’s ready.

– Ashley

Nothing Important. Manhattan Coffee Shop.

Ashley — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 02:51:21 +0000

I have this amazing ability to frequent a Manhattan coffee shop, order a cup of regular, and allow it to go perfectly cold before ever touching it. Each time this happens, I wonder why I’m surprised.

O’Reiley’s Irish Pub at 31st and Broadway. 2:51pm. Also surprised why, out of all the Irish Pubs in Manhattan, I come here when I need to hole up somewhere and work. Especially when I know The Boyfriend (during The Separation) brought the only person on the globe I actually — and vehemently — hate here. She gave him a love note, then. He kept it.

I like to pretend she has wall-eye.

Sigh.

Having a tough time with the homelessness (please note I’m not sleeping on a bench, but rather don’t have a solidified lease and am presently bouncing around aimlessly), and The Boyfriend’s inability to realize that I’m smarter than him.

Not in a pompous way, mind you. But after starting several companies on my own which I’m happy to have The Boyfriend involved with (as mentioned, The Boyfriend is very supportive, a good kisser, and generally wonderful to have around) — The Boyfriend has taken to thinking he knows better than me about things. We had a discussion yesterday that has now rendered us… well, discussion-less — for more than 24 hours.

I may have also told The Boyfriend to go fuck himself and learn PHP coding, then talk to me. Considering his lack of computer background, we might not be speaking for awhile.

Interesting… the tendencies of relationships. When things are good — when money isn’t a directly pressing issue — when you’re actually having life-is-great-intercourse on a regular basis — you wonder how anything could ever go wrong, how anything could possibly infringe upon your unrealistic snowglobe of bliss.

Until some clepto finds it and flings it against a marble wall.

I’m only twenty three. Sometimes I wonder where I’m going.

Coffee’s cold again. *@#$.

– Ashley

The Boyfriend = Good for Coffee, Sex, Insulting My Enemies…

Ashley — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 16:29:09 +0000

February 20th. 10:51am. Minutes after waking up: 4. Gulps of coffee: 1

Woke up about four and a half minutes ago to something utterly and extordinarily delightful. Usually I’m like dealing with one of those petstore Feed The Mouse to the Snake rodents in the morning. Confused by the light, two seconds away from biting you, and infused with an understandable immortal cynisism.

One thing awesome about my morning, however — as I stumbled into the kitchen, glaring at things — was the realization that it’s pretty awesome to have The Boyfriend. I mean, just in general. The Boyfriend does stuff for you sometimes. The Boyfriend has a practical application to everyday, make-things-easier Life.

For example. This particular morning I threw on my gigantic purple ski socks, shuffled past the coffee maker, and it was as if Edgar Poe himself reared up from the half-empty Starbucks bag an announced that his Raven would be personally concocting my Mocha.

The Boyfriend had brewed coffee. The Boyfriend is useful.

List of Other Things The Boyfriend Is Useful For:

Making coffee
Sex
Petting my hair when I eat MSG.
Fighting with gigantic bouncers when I get drunk and belligerant and insult them
Kissing
Telling me when my outfits look like Star Wars
Insulting people I don’t like by sending them singing telegrams
Proof reading my It’ll-Make-Me-Feel-Better I HATE YOU, DUMBASS!! emails to clients / employees / etc.
Sexy stuff.
Pretending to be my assistant when I’m actively avoiding creditors

Yeah. The Boyfriend is pretty cool. I’m going to go jump on his bed with my coffee and wake him up now. Good morning, Saturday.

– Ashley