call it what you will

(original post: november 5, 2007)

i am sitting in los angeles, waiting.

what a whirlwind, this all has been. i am not sure what to think of it all, or myself for agreeing to do it.

i flew in yesterday. the flight was alright, a little rocky but good nonetheless. i was sitting at the back of the plane, ruing georgia law that you cannot drink before 12:30, wanting to get rid of my flight anxiety by just a small bottle of vodka. but no. i had to wait during the takeoff AND the climb to 40,000 feet. we were going to rest at 30,000 miles of death but there was eveidently choppy air in the sky with an animosity for large flying objects.
40,000 it was.

i was on the aisle. there was an asian lady to my immediate left that had an obvious obsession with the armrests. and to my far left was a man who either had problems with his sinuses or was really into deep meditative breathing. either way, he had a very loud exhale, to the point where i wanted him to exfixiate himself so that i could go back to concentrating on what point in the flight we were all going to die.

so i was waiting for the vodka. beverage service, whatever. mr. heavy sinuses loudly offered us free cocktail tickets, and free alcohol is always of higher quality to me, so i accepted dutifully. i didn't even have to use it though, because the steward ended up liking me to the point where i got vip for everything; free bloody marys, peanuts and biscotti, and the sunchips from first class. he called me baroness, a female version of the man who coached football whose favorite hat was evidently alot like mine. we both found this funny; him because he knew who the fuck he was talking about, and me because i had no royal idea who the bear was. and the vodka probably had something to do with it.

oh. and if you've never seen the movie the evening... don't. it's a waste of two hours of my life i will never ever get back.

so we landed safely, of course, as i always don't think we will, and i then waited for an hour in the drive of the airport for bravo to pick me up. they said that i would have approximately an hour before they would call me to come and audition the choreography, and fifteen minutes later, i was ushered down to the lobby to start stretching. i guess hours are actually quarter hours real time. the choreography was fun, i did best at the technique with turns and leaps, and fucked up my solo cause i had no music. on a scale of 1 -10, i found it about a 3 all in all. but... whatever. i did what i did and that's all i could do. we'll see how it turns out.

so now, i am sequestered in my hotel room, smoking cigarettes in the bathroom shower so i won't have to be chaperoned to the front of the building every hour. i gave my production interview at 930 this morning, and ordered room service while i filled out a 567 question psychological survey called the MMPI-2 ( the minnesota multiphasic personality inventory-2 whatever the fuck that is). i'm bored and i'm pretty sure i'm not going to be the one that bravo picks, because i'm non-competitive and i get along with pretty much everyone.

but. i'll see everyone on weds. i get in at 1130 tomorrow night. keep your fingers crossed...

k.