Now, before you go getting all smug and holier than thou and assuming that I've returned to my slacking, blog-lazy ways, again, let me just tell you I have been a very, very, VERY busy girl.
I have been working. Oh yes, you read that right. Working. The charming genius that is Allison Hemming has already got me busting tail on copywrighting gigs. I took a meeting with the three amazing minds behind Charitybuzz, who are looking for someone to come in and roll out a strategy plan for their marketing. (I explained to them that I'm not the strategy person they need to put the plan on paper, but I sure would love to be the content person that puts the plan into action. Check them out - they are doing some truly inspired, exciting stuff.) I've been meeting with Ally, putting our two cute heads together on ways to make my creative brilliance and exceptional talent both profitable and available to the world. I've exercised lots. I've lunched. I've movied. I spent three days in the Hamptons with Scott, toasting our misfortunes and plotting all sorts of wonderful schemes for our bright, bright futures. And I've been packing for a long, much needed trip home. Okay, so a lot of that doesn't actually sound like work, but you'll have to take my word for it.
And I've been challenged to get my ass writing. Writing, writing, writing. I explained to Ally that it took me three or four years into my acting career before I actually had the nerve - and pride - to call myself an actor. I don't want it to take me that many years to call myself a writer. I've also been warned to knock off the sickening level of self-deprication... but that'll take awhile, and a therapist I'm afraid. (Hence the references to my creative brillance and exceptional talent. Just trying to see how the other half lives. The self-appreciating half.)
So I'll need you all to keep kicking my ass - you're excellent at it, by the way, you bullies - and I promise to keep off it. My ass, that is. Something good is going to come of all this, and it's right here on the horizon. That's some scary stuff, but so exciting! It's like a life-sized, real-time choose your own adventure!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
But I'm ALWAYS Somewhat Off-Balance
CHECK ME OUT. This is THREE days in a row. I tend to steer clear of the all caps a good percentage of the time, but sometimes it's just UNAVOIDABLE.
I am like a shining example of commitment to craft. A beacon of self-discipline. I have no idea what that means, but the phrase just popped into my head and seemed too profoundly deep (and funny) to ignore.
For all of you who are counting, you know today is DAY TWO (okay, enough) of The Furlough. (This would all be a lot worse if that wasn't such a fun word to say.)
And I have to say - it's been a weirdly optimistic day. Not that that's a complaint, obviously - I was just prepped for the freak out and I'm still breathing regularly and keeping my food down. Must be all the yoga?
For example, here is the horoscope that was waiting for me when I woke up:
Dear Leo, here is your horoscope for Thursday, July 9:
You may feel somewhat off-balance right now, but as long as you can adapt to your new circumstances, you should be able to keep moving forward. Flexibility is the key to success for you right now.
I mean, right? It's impossible to panic when clearly the universe has your back.
And throughout the day I've been getting hit with love and support. Like, smacked right upside the head with it. Acquaintances are hooking me up with potential freelance gigs. High school friends are hugging me, Facebook-style, left and right. And some of my who-knew well-connected friends are already out wheeling and dealing for me. And whether or not any of that leads to a paycheck in the next couple of days matters very little. My psyche is being well-tended to and that feels even more important. (Author's note: that is subject to change, violently and with much hyper-ventalating, with no warning.)
Plus it's been gorgeous out, and you know it's tough to wish you were sitting in an office instead of out running in the mid-afternoon sunshine.
So I'm keeping on with the business of keeping on. I'm writing. This may just be a silly little blog to you, and that's because it is. It is a silly little blog. But it's me, writing, and keeping the creative juices from congealing. Mmmm.
I am like a shining example of commitment to craft. A beacon of self-discipline. I have no idea what that means, but the phrase just popped into my head and seemed too profoundly deep (and funny) to ignore.
For all of you who are counting, you know today is DAY TWO (okay, enough) of The Furlough. (This would all be a lot worse if that wasn't such a fun word to say.)
And I have to say - it's been a weirdly optimistic day. Not that that's a complaint, obviously - I was just prepped for the freak out and I'm still breathing regularly and keeping my food down. Must be all the yoga?
For example, here is the horoscope that was waiting for me when I woke up:
Dear Leo, here is your horoscope for Thursday, July 9:
You may feel somewhat off-balance right now, but as long as you can adapt to your new circumstances, you should be able to keep moving forward. Flexibility is the key to success for you right now.
I mean, right? It's impossible to panic when clearly the universe has your back.
And throughout the day I've been getting hit with love and support. Like, smacked right upside the head with it. Acquaintances are hooking me up with potential freelance gigs. High school friends are hugging me, Facebook-style, left and right. And some of my who-knew well-connected friends are already out wheeling and dealing for me. And whether or not any of that leads to a paycheck in the next couple of days matters very little. My psyche is being well-tended to and that feels even more important. (Author's note: that is subject to change, violently and with much hyper-ventalating, with no warning.)
Plus it's been gorgeous out, and you know it's tough to wish you were sitting in an office instead of out running in the mid-afternoon sunshine.
So I'm keeping on with the business of keeping on. I'm writing. This may just be a silly little blog to you, and that's because it is. It is a silly little blog. But it's me, writing, and keeping the creative juices from congealing. Mmmm.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
The Furlough: Day One
Day One of Indefinite Furlough is well underway.
Didn't sleep in, not laying in the sun, no shopping on the agenda, and afraid to eat breakfast because what if I can't afford to eat anymore - basically it's just like a forced vacation, only without any of the fun parts and with ill-placed panic attacks.
So here's what I'm doing with day one: I'm making a good old fashioned Honey Do list. (Sometimes I call myself honey, because it makes me feel better. And sometimes because I'm sort of condescending to myself.)
And here's where you come in: I need some major accountability or I never get anything done. So you keep reading, and you keep calling me out on my shit, and together we're going to make this the most productive, most exciting furlough ever of all time.
Stuff for Jessica To Do:
Write something every day. (Give yourself a break if it's not brilliant, or funny, or awe-inspiring. If you want to be a writer, you have to write.)
Do something active every day.
Pray. A lot.
Network. Ask people how they got their jobs, particularly those of whom are doing something you might like to do.
Don't spend money you don't have to, but don't beat yourself up for buying stuff you need.
Don't beat yourself up, in general.
Enjoy yourself, every second that you can.
Well that's lofty and vague enough for now, right?
Didn't sleep in, not laying in the sun, no shopping on the agenda, and afraid to eat breakfast because what if I can't afford to eat anymore - basically it's just like a forced vacation, only without any of the fun parts and with ill-placed panic attacks.
So here's what I'm doing with day one: I'm making a good old fashioned Honey Do list. (Sometimes I call myself honey, because it makes me feel better. And sometimes because I'm sort of condescending to myself.)
And here's where you come in: I need some major accountability or I never get anything done. So you keep reading, and you keep calling me out on my shit, and together we're going to make this the most productive, most exciting furlough ever of all time.
Stuff for Jessica To Do:
Write something every day. (Give yourself a break if it's not brilliant, or funny, or awe-inspiring. If you want to be a writer, you have to write.)
Do something active every day.
Pray. A lot.
Network. Ask people how they got their jobs, particularly those of whom are doing something you might like to do.
Don't spend money you don't have to, but don't beat yourself up for buying stuff you need.
Don't beat yourself up, in general.
Enjoy yourself, every second that you can.
Well that's lofty and vague enough for now, right?
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
I think someone put my security blanket in the dryer.
As my beloved ex, actor-producer-writer-smart-ass extraordinaire James Huffman, once so eloquently put it, I have a tendency to settle into my comfort zones a bit too easily, for a bit too long.
Case in point: The Hired Guns.
I started working on the most part-time of schedules for this group nearly five years ago now. I have steadily increased my time there until about a year and a half ago, when I signed on full time as their events manager and content guru, doing copywriting, editing, and all sort of various things. I got comfortable. I went from affectionately being nicknamed "Girl Friday" to "Overhead." (I'm very good at spending other people's money, particularly on a party. Ask my dad. Or my ex-husband.)
Unfortunately, this isn't the most ideal climate in which to answer to "Overhead."
And I am, indefinitely, out of work.
A scary thing indeed for a girl whose only apparent skill is making her friends laugh in a blog she can only manage to write on a once a month or so basis.
I love this company. I love these people. They are passionate about what they're doing over there - and I believe firmly that in ten years, when The Hired Guns has reached unimaginable status in their field, this time in the company's history will be a huge learning lesson in bearing down and weathering the storm. That's the price that gets paid for being visionary. And I take them at their word that as soon as things turn around, I'm the first person they'll call.
But this afternoon this fish is feeling a little out of water, as evidenced by my inconsistent mixing of metaphors. I mean, sure, it was nice being home to watch the Michael Jackson memorial service uninterrupted by pesky work. And I already have huge plans for cleaning the whole apartment, rearranging my room, losing a lot of weight, and hanging with Scott in the Hamptons while we compete over the hot, wealthy, gainfully employed and emotionally available men that are pining for us, so clearly there's a lot to do. If I knew this "furlough" was just going to last for a couple of months, honestly I'd be ecstatic. Who doesn't want the summer off? Yeah, I'd have to pinch some pennies, maybe bust out a credit card once or twice, but think of the tan! Think of the naps!
But the only way to really enjoy sunbathing and catnaps is with the security of a bi-monthly paycheck.
If you care to help me out, that would be great.
It's been years since I've had to put together a resume, but I reckon it goes something like this:
I like to write. It's really the only talent I have. I'm okay at it on my bad days, and pretty damn good at it on my best.
I would be happiest writing on my laptop, near a beach. I don't care all that much what I write, but if it was about current events, pop culture, stupid shit that no one cares about but everyone reads, all the better.
I can effortlessly plan a mean wine and cheese fete, a lovely sunset boat cruise, or a picnic-themed French bistro cocktail party, with nothing but an unlimited budget and complete control.
I am willing to travel (as long as it's warm), willing to work long hours (as long as they start around noonish), and don't promise not to be lippy.
Hmm... it's a good thing I have an agent as of this morning. I think that's gonna need some work. But you get the gist, yes?
This is always when the interesting stuff happens, isn't it? When life kicks you in the butt and tells you to get a move on?
Case in point: The Hired Guns.
I started working on the most part-time of schedules for this group nearly five years ago now. I have steadily increased my time there until about a year and a half ago, when I signed on full time as their events manager and content guru, doing copywriting, editing, and all sort of various things. I got comfortable. I went from affectionately being nicknamed "Girl Friday" to "Overhead." (I'm very good at spending other people's money, particularly on a party. Ask my dad. Or my ex-husband.)
Unfortunately, this isn't the most ideal climate in which to answer to "Overhead."
And I am, indefinitely, out of work.
A scary thing indeed for a girl whose only apparent skill is making her friends laugh in a blog she can only manage to write on a once a month or so basis.
I love this company. I love these people. They are passionate about what they're doing over there - and I believe firmly that in ten years, when The Hired Guns has reached unimaginable status in their field, this time in the company's history will be a huge learning lesson in bearing down and weathering the storm. That's the price that gets paid for being visionary. And I take them at their word that as soon as things turn around, I'm the first person they'll call.
But this afternoon this fish is feeling a little out of water, as evidenced by my inconsistent mixing of metaphors. I mean, sure, it was nice being home to watch the Michael Jackson memorial service uninterrupted by pesky work. And I already have huge plans for cleaning the whole apartment, rearranging my room, losing a lot of weight, and hanging with Scott in the Hamptons while we compete over the hot, wealthy, gainfully employed and emotionally available men that are pining for us, so clearly there's a lot to do. If I knew this "furlough" was just going to last for a couple of months, honestly I'd be ecstatic. Who doesn't want the summer off? Yeah, I'd have to pinch some pennies, maybe bust out a credit card once or twice, but think of the tan! Think of the naps!
But the only way to really enjoy sunbathing and catnaps is with the security of a bi-monthly paycheck.
If you care to help me out, that would be great.
It's been years since I've had to put together a resume, but I reckon it goes something like this:
I like to write. It's really the only talent I have. I'm okay at it on my bad days, and pretty damn good at it on my best.
I would be happiest writing on my laptop, near a beach. I don't care all that much what I write, but if it was about current events, pop culture, stupid shit that no one cares about but everyone reads, all the better.
I can effortlessly plan a mean wine and cheese fete, a lovely sunset boat cruise, or a picnic-themed French bistro cocktail party, with nothing but an unlimited budget and complete control.
I am willing to travel (as long as it's warm), willing to work long hours (as long as they start around noonish), and don't promise not to be lippy.
Hmm... it's a good thing I have an agent as of this morning. I think that's gonna need some work. But you get the gist, yes?
This is always when the interesting stuff happens, isn't it? When life kicks you in the butt and tells you to get a move on?
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