A weighty matter

Goddamn film. Goddamn video. Goddamn genetics.

Just came out of acting class. I hate looking at myself on camera. This guy really has his work cut out for him, if he thinks he is going to make me good. The positive note is, he thinks he is going to make me good.

He told me I am too big. That I know funny, but now I just have to let it come out, rather than push it out. I thought, great.

Then I watched the tape.

First of all, I thought the camera was supposed to add ten pounds!

Where are my ten pounds!

I look like a concentration camper. I was thinking of cutting my hair, from the big, crazy look, to the very close cropped look, but, anymore resemblence to the tortured, will not put me in the good graces of the people looking for attractive people to send into folk's living rooms. Plus, I pop my eyes out and it gives me a crazy serial killer look. That's what would make Everybody Loves Ray funnier. If he was a crazy, murdering victim of the Holocaust!

The only good to come out of class was a young, chesty new girl, with tight black tee and low slung jeans over red Converse, was hitting on me. She asked if I was married during the break, indicating my ring, and I told her yes, but then dropped the D-bomb. She flip flopped to reply, but I launched into I'm-OK-you don't worry, and she calmed down. Then we got paired up to read a scene, and I pulled out a Zone bar to eat. Well, she starts asking me about the bar, and if it is a Zone, and what flavors I like, and I have to try Chocolate Gooey, or something, and all I could think was, if she is doing five minutes on a protein bar, then she is in to you, my friend.

I had the presence of mind to be flirty, but not totally open to her. That way I can determine if she is crazy. Most actresses are. Plus, she was a child actor. Not good.

Still, puts a little zing in my step.

I may not look good on film, but the emotionally stunted are in to me.