People often express curiosity – “what are you really up to out there in LA?” My response is usually to direct them to my blog, which, although honest and informative, is often based on my bored-at-work-on-a-Saturday mood and colored with an I’m-okay-don’t-worry-about-me cheerful veneer. Not to say it’s entirely inaccurate, but I get a feeling people are more curious about the stumbling blocks, the juicy gossip, the tales from pounding the pavement, and I haven’t really blogged that yet.

Part of the reason I'm somewhat loathe to share the negative aspects of pursuing an artistic career is my inability to admit failure. For example, I received word back from NYFringe this week that the one woman show I wrote was not accepted to this year's festival. I scanned the letter they sent for the important words, put it back in its' envelope, ate my sushi and had a full glass of wine before I admitted to Chrissy I didn't get in. She's my best friend and I couldn't even tell her. Same exact thing when I received an e-mail about the casting decision on a film I recently had a callback for. It's as if saying it aloud makes it real, whereas if I stay silent maybe people will forget I ever tried.

Another reason is that I don't want to come off as a come off as a whiny, self-absorbed jerk. Life is hard for everyone, and afterall, I chose to pursue this profession with full awareness of the challenges. (Okay, I was aware, but the dull pain of repetitively being told NO! is a lot harder to stomach in reality)

My very good friend and mentor, Bailey, has done a great deal to help me overcome my self-doubting, at times self-destructive mentality. Rather than condescending to me, or poor-poor babying me, or saying "at least you tried" or "shoot for the moon" or some other bullshit philosophy, he regaled me with the story of some guy who had a recipe he believed in and literally knocked on one thousand doors til someone else believed in him and gave him a bunch of money, and now he has a sauce empire or something like that. I have no idea why this story comforts me, but basically the idea is that one should take pride in their failure, charting it just as they would any accomplishment. Bailey calls it "Collecting the No's."

I've tried to do the Math - I've been here for nearly ten months, actively auditioning for 9; every day I get approx. 30 breakdowns for casting and submit for about 7:

9(30*7) = 1890 submissions

Of those submissions, only a handful lead to auditions - some months have seen 0 auditions, others a dozen (so average is 6):

1890 - (6*9) = 1836 No's

OR I could look just at auditions; of the approximately 54 auditions, I've booked 3 shows, 1 low budget feature, 1 modeling gig, and I think that's it:

54 - 5 = 49 No's

So! I either have 836 more No's than that sauce guy got, or I have 951 No's still to go. Either way, I am well on my way to someone believing in me as an artist and maybe (!!!!!) becoming a working actor.

This week was rough, marking the one-year anniversary of an ex-roommate's sudden death, receiving word that a lot of relatives and friends and people at the Home are ill or dying, one of my jobs being unable to pay me, waking up to my roommate's dog's shit in the hallway every morning...so hearing that two projects that I obviously would have loved to work on didn't pan out as I hoped felt, well, appropriate. But if I sink into a stink every time something doesn't work out, I will never, ever get out of my bed. Therefore, I am resolved to continue collecting the No's.

Whew! Okay, I admitted it. I fail. A lot. Now you know what's up.