i hope this makes sense.

this is something i have been thinking about a lot over the past few months, and then i stopped worrying about, and then i remembered something i had forgotten. relearned something i had managed to unlearn. anyway.

 

emotional reaction and connection. long form improvisation requires this to a degree that's fairly astonishing. some acting techniques do teach that the only correct method in scripted acting is the calling up of genuine emotion in yourself.

 

improv is SO HARD because you do need to be able to react 'naturally' to everything that your scene partner is doing. and some people's natural reaction is to avoid, or argue or be passive aggressive... while that is REAL and NATURAL, such reactions are even more poisonous onstage than they are in regular life. i had (have) such a hard time with emotionally reacting because i don't do it very often; however exuberant and outgoing i am at times, i rarely have a geniune emotional interaction to someone. i might be touched by a story, or feel annoyed by some asshole thing they've said or done; but the actual interaction of emotions doesn't happen. or if it does, i do it really quickly and then distract them with a bunch of words afterwards.

 

i found myself struggling with this problem so consistently in improv that i hardly noticed it. it was EVERY problem, really. and while i have not overcome the problem (certainly not in my um... real life), i think it has become much LESS of a problem for me onstage. and only because i faked it. fake it till you make it. there is a great part of dustin hoffman's inside the actor's studio where he talks about how he worked himself up to flip out over the hot water in 'rain man'; and the emotion in that scene all came from his frustration and anger and rage at himself for not being able to feel those emotions authentically. so he took the emotion from somewhere else.

 

what does this mean in improv? i think it means that faking it works.  that you should fake it.  if you are a terrible or mediocre actor, you should absolutely still try to have an emotional reaction and let it show on your face and in your voice and body. 

 

i think it comes down to that decision to commit.

 

very recently, i think i have finally understood what i need to do in order to improve my improvising.  the vaguely frustrating thing is that it is something i have thought about in the abstract, and even given as a mental note to shows i tech or watch, and one which i KNOW intellectually is important, but which i, myself, have somehow managed to avoid applying to myself.  i don't want to get distracted by this, but what the fuck?  why do all lessons in my life seem to hover around my consciousness for a year before i actually pick up on them and apply them to myself?  i hope this means i am noticing a pattern and that i will get better at noticing lessons i should be learning sooner, in the future.

ANYWAY; i refuse to be distracted!

the lesson is commitment.  what i need to do, what i need to focus on forcing myself to do in every scene is COMMIT to whatever the scene or character is.  commitment and emotional integrity.  i had a scene in class a week or so ago where i made someone dr. mengele, i set us in holocaust-era germany; i mentioned lamps made from human skin and piles of gassed children's shoes.  NONE of those things are funny, and there is really no reason that scene should have worked.  physically, i did very little, except act a little distressed.  but i committed to my perspective, and i respected that stage and that premise.  the reason i harp on about this is that DURING that scene i felt myself desperately trying to distance from the terrible things i was setting up, but then another, wiser improv-trained part was like 'NO, if you back off now, it will suck.  if you 'pretend' or act sarcastically, it will suck.  STICK TO YOUR PERSPECTIVE AND COMMIT TO IT.'

i call my good reaction to that mengele scene 'improv wisdom', but i think that is dressing it up in fancier clothes than it deserves.  i straight up finally drilled this lesson into my thick skull because of a show i did where i was just an asshole, the whole time.  it was a castlemania! show, which i mention because it's a three person team.  it's way harder to be a snarky dick when there are only 3 people onstage.  the show was a frustrating one for me, since the only audience member was a drunk, back-talking barber from the place next door, and i just felt supremely uncommitted.  and then wondered why all my moves were stupid and unfunny.

 

in conclusion... KATEY.  QUIT BEING AN ASSHOLE AND COMMIT TO YOUR SCENES AND SCENE PARTNERS.  maybe that will work this time.

i should not be at work today

i feel physically terrible, it's disgusting outside, i accidentally overslept because i shut my alarm off while asleep (my alarm clock is across the room), i keep freaking out over nothing and now i am basically sobbing at my desk for no good reason.  i haven't even been watching one of the many, many internet videos that make me cry on a regular basis.  there are like tears built up like a damn behind my eyes.  

feelings are retarded.

um.  chilled out a little.  i think it might help if i were to actually.... you know... eat some lunch.

pheme

if i was still 'doing' sociology and pursuing it professionally, or at least seriously, i would write a paper on the sociology of fame.  must see if old roommate can get me access to potential papers on the subject.  

thanks again, stephen fry.

jk totally sick now

right now THE ILLNESS is staying confined to my throat area, which is good because it means i am at least mildly functional, and bad because it means i am on a soup/other hot liquids diet for the next few days.  good thing i stayed up making all the buffalo chicken dip for the week, right?!  grumble.  

the only sore throat stuff i have expired last may, which apparently means it's not as strong as it was.  bummer.  that's what i get for living alone and not in a household with lots of other people getting sick all the time.  i'll take it!

other stuff:

just read on neil gaiman's blog that there is an attempt brewing to essentially ban children from libraries in order to test all books everywhere for lead containment... which is crazy for a bunch of reasons, but primarily because publishers have tested all the components of books published and found them to contain miniscule amounts of lead, well below the allowable amounts.  also crazy because it's just another way to 'protect' our children from the dangers of books.  vomit.  here is a link to the original letter from a woman in the national library association.  i'll see what i can do to help this afternoon.

'stuff' implies plurality, but that is all i have.

NEARLY sick? how can you be NEARLY sick?

okay, i forced that one.

i am close to a cold. i haven't been sick in months and months; not since the summer at least (yay, leaving the cubicle farm!). however, tonight sitting at my new favorite starbucks (yay bond street! go eff yourself, 2nd ave and 9th st!), i started feeling achy and chesty, but tried to ignore such weakness by sitting next to the cold window so i could look at people walking by and admire the cobbley-ness of bond street. which was honestly fucking retarded since i take my glasses off to read, and sans glasses, the outside, at night, is a wash of indistinct, bundled forms and neon lights. oh well. regardless, it was stupid and i had to leave my jacket on. sidebar: i am getting really sick of feeling puffy and round for down-jacket-based reasons. self: please invest in a thinsulate-lined wool coat. anyway, as i plowed my way through the first sarah vowell book i've ever read (WHAT? how did i miss that memo?), i felt myself getting sicker and sicker.

then i went to trader joes and bought a preposterously heavy amount of food. i love bread!

oh no. it's a couple hours later. feel so much worse.

i had a crazy weekend. it was mostly crazy awesome though. <3 ny.

look up more

i have been gripped this week by another bout of deep numb depression (?); i was flying pretty high for a couple weeks, but attempting stridently to ignore it and not give in to the wildness my thoughts seemed capable of did not work, in the end, to avoid the inevitable (?) crash.  besides, if you ignore something, it's not happening, right psychology?

today i decided to walk over to my old, favorite, high quality but also cheap, chinese buffet.  the place, ho yip, is around the corner from my first job in new york, and i've been there off and on for almost three years now.  it was lovely out, and i was finally startled out of my reverie of dark thoughts (god i'm such an ASSHOLE... why do i suck so much... my legs hurt... why can't i feel anything?!? vast chasms of formless greyness are not what life is supposed to feel like... why are all my thoughts moving at 1/4 speed?  i am such and asshole) by the utter beauty of the interplay between new york buildings.  i wasn't even in a pretty part of town, but the stunning composition of the skyline; one turn of the century building's details paired against the strict background of an 80's glass monster set off by the art deco facade of a grand former bank... it was kind of breath-taking.  combined with the first day where the hope of spring was tangible in the air... i was feeling much better by the time i made my way back towards the soaring met life building that my office borders.

normally when i walk in the city, i look down and forward, like a good 'native'.  unless it's late and there's no one around, i rarely stop to admire the scenery.  or play games of 'take my glasses off and see how close i need to be to that sign before i can actually read it and not just guess what it says'* variety.  i don't pause and wonder, unless it is really late at night and i won't feel like people are assuming i am a tourist when staring open mouthed at the wonder all around us.  although most natives would probably assume only an out-of-towner would gape idiotically on 20th street at 3 am, so i'm probably not being any wiser.

so look up more, new york.  it is wondrous.

however, upon arriving at the chinese place, i found that they raised the price of the buffet by an additional $2 per pound.  ugh.  i loaded up regardless, i was there after all, and then got to the cashier only to find out that they ACTUAL cost of the buffet was an additional $1.50 above what was posted on the signs, so my supposedly economic splurge of the friediest foods i could imagine was a total bust in the money department.  

they put the plastic buffet containers in a plastic shopping bag, which i am always so worried about bursting open inside the bag and spilling all my chinese everywhere.  i wish their packaging was sturdy, like a subway sandwich.  if only subway didn't taste like white trash sadness and sugared, cheap bread, my concern for utility and practicality of design would be married to my desire for a delicious lunch.

i worry all the time.

*last night some lady almost started kicking my ass as i played that game in the union square station.  she started making a bee-line towards me (presumably to go to the downtown 4/5/6 track), so i changed my angle to miss her, she READJUSTED her trajectory so that she would still be intersecting with me, with the possible intention of getting me up against the wall (union square station), i yelled 'get the fuck out of my way, asshole!, right as she almost body checked me, and then kind of bolted past her before she could touch me, and she started screaming obscenities and inviting me to fight her.  it was an invitation i stridently ignored. once i got to the platform, i turned and looked so i could watch the stairs in case she decided to follow and put her case more forcefully.  she might've been attempting to mug me, which is the only reason i can think of that you would basically run a person against a wall like that.  not scary, but adrenaline-y.  my first instinct is to yell swearwords.  good to know.

well, that should work

if my worldview is, in any way, accurate, my glasses should be waiting for me when i get home.  i just tried to call www.zennioptical.com to see if they could 1) tell me when my glasses shipped and 2) what address i used to ship them to - i normally don't send packages to my apartment; it's not a doorman building and my mail slot is tiny - however, i ordered them at 10 pm on 1/2 so i might not have been thinking clearly and just shipped them to my house.

HOWEVER, no one was available to take my call.  and then i tried to leave a message and was informed that the mailbox was full.  grumble.

so...  what i am saying is, i want my damn glasses already.

WORST BLOG POST.