An Actor’s Resolution

I feel like I’m living in the eye of a tornado. 12-hour days running from work to rehearsals to work and rehearsals. By nine o’clock I’m a marshmallow. My life in the theater is thriving. I’m rehearsing my two plays and working on two scenes. Auditions on the other hand have been sparse. I was called to play a “sex addict” in an independent film that sounded like an even cheaper version of “American Pie”. The sides read like soft porn. I didn’t go.

The Strasberg Institute will close for the holidays so I’ll be “Sugarless” for a month. I’ll really miss doing my show. But I’m going out with a bang with an almost full house tonight!

The holidays are always a bit depressing. Nothing to distract me from the dark realization that I have no money to go along with my holiday cheer. I know I should relax and refuel for the upcoming year but my engines already full.

I am going home to Boston for a few days. Along with seeing family and friends, I’ll take a meeting with the high profile magazine “Boston Common”. They’ve promised me a feature story. So that’s good.

There should be a twelve-step group for Actors during the holidays. Maybe after we vent our problems we can sit around and do cold readings. There is such a thing as “acting withdrawal”…it entails leaving our fantasy lives to live in the harsh cold reality of life. No “characters” to prepare for, no acting teachers to validate our talent and no rushing around town to take meetings that make us feel busy and productive, even if we often are just burning mileage on our well- worn cars.

Alas, I will offer some good holiday cheer and hope! Pilot season is around the corner. Resolutions will have been made reassuring us that this is the year we’ll “make it”. So be strong. Hang-on. And if all else fails, go to the library and pick-up a copy of Stanislavski: An Actor Prepares” and you’ll be ready for this year for sure!

Written by Rachel Bailit

Creative One-Two Punch

I hit a double-header. My show, with its new ending, was a great success and my “Desperate Housewives” episode, airing on the very same evening, scored me a multitude of congratulatory emails from around the country. Apparently, even playing a “skanky” character with teased rat hair and black-eyed circles was not enough to hide me. My play, on the other hand was completely revealing with no attempt at disguise. Adding a fourth character was a stretch. Where I faltered and stammered, I grew in closeness with my audience. They appreciated my candor and acknowledgement of my mistakes. They even found it funny. It made me human. It took away all pretenses. I’m finally where I want to be. In my own skin. And comfortable. I feel liked for being me, from the inside out. Not the other way around.

I went to see and support another one-woman show last weekend. The play is titled “Suburban Showgirl” and stars Palmer Davis. She’s magnificent. So much talent on one little stage. She had a line that keeps echoing in my head. “Sometimes the late bloomers stay fresh longer.” I’ve always been a late bloomer. But I never saw it as having a benefit. But perhaps time is on my side. After all, I didn’t make it when I was in the “O.C” stage and I was no Lindsay Lohan (in status or in sobriety). I’m only hitting my stride now. Why? Well for me, my late blossom had to fend its way through some serious thorns, wire fences, and growth. I had to grow from a girl to a woman. I had to possess myself. I take to take control of my creative reigns and make a choice. For me, it was the one-woman show. There’s no room to stay the “little girl” when you have to perform and entertain for 75 minutes. “the little girl”, “the little boy”…whoever it is, is a cute and charming companion when your snuggled-up in bed with a bowl of popcorn but not so cute when you are confronted with real adult issues in the world. The adult in us has to step-up at some point. And Hollywood does not demand this of us. Especially when it thrives on youth and the absorption of those ripe “beautiful” years. It’s actually intimidating to people to be around a self-possessed person. A person who knows what they want and asks for what they want. They are called “arrogant, pushy, self-absorbed”. But what is the real crime of knowing what you want and asking for it? I know a show like mine could seem narcissistic. And maybe it threatened to be at some moments. But ironically, what I’ve come to discover is the only thing I care about is not caring about myself on stage. Lessening my own importance while keeping my value.

Don’t shrink for others. It’s not cute. Even Shirley Temple had to grow-up, even Dorothy had to leave Oz. and even you, have to recognize that no container can hold you for too long. You’re simply too big a person. Fill your shoes; you have lots of steps to take and have others to fill. And be kind to yourself during the process because growing pains are tough. Take it one inch at a time. But appreciate your new height and stand tall.

Written by Rachel Bailit

Biding Time In Hollywood

It’s a real trip taking reservations for my show. People call the number and expect a ticket service and it’s ME! It’s so “grassroots”. Who needs Telecharge, Ticketron, Ticketmaster?

Why not speak directly to the actress you’ll see on stage. Maybe I could make some money doing bits of the show on the phone. A sort of “preview”. Heck, maybe I can charge people to listen to my entire play on the phone. It would be like phone sex but with a brain.

I’m very pleased with the press I’m receiving. My Google alert is assaulting me every couple of hours! Wait until I really open!

I’ve still not found a theater in LA to house my show. I feel like I’m floating without a net. What’s new?

I had a callback for a new Wendy’s commercial in which I would play a person without a mouth. I had to put tape over my lips for the audition. Talk about repressing art! Let’s hope the government doesn’t get a hold of this idea.

I’ve decided that I must get a fulltime job. Normally I would be depressed at this prospect but this time around I’m surrendering to the idea. I simply can’t take the struggle and the poverty. Now, that said, I was happy to learn about the plethora of interesting jobs available on Craig’s list. My first interview was at a Mercedes Dealership. It’s very “chichi”. I’d be doing marketing. Think of the perks. I could be driving to auditions in a new SL Benz.

I don’t believe that one can have it all without sacrificing something. I mean, I can’t run around auditioning and doing theater and expect my bills to get paid miraculously. A conscious decision has to be made. I have to grow-up sometime. We’re all running around this town with Peter Pan complexes.

We look young, we feel young, so who needs to grow-up? I do.

“De-nial” may be a river in Egypt, but consciousness may be a luxury home in Beverly Hills. So, one day at a time, as those smart twelve steppers say.

Scary story, Minnie Driver came into the store where I work part-time. She asked me to watch her dog while she shopped and it snuck-out while I wasn’t looking. How horrifying for her. I could just see the newspapers “Local actress-sales girl loses movie star’s dog. Was it an act of jealousy and sabotage”? Fortunately for all, we found the dog in the shop next door. She was incredibly understanding and kind. No dogs or babies on my watch.

I really want the new Iphone. It’s killing me. I became a KJAZZ supporter just so I could enter a sweepstakes to win one.

My blackberry is antiquated. It’s always about “the next thing” in this town. It’s impossible to stay the same without falling behind. It reminds me of my hamster habit trail I had growing-up. I used to watch my hamster “Candy” travel round and round on that thing for hours. She had no peace of mind until a dog devoured her one-day. Poor Candy. Is that the only way to get off this ride? Ouch. I’ll stay on.

Written by Rachel Bailit

You Take The Cake

A milestone. I’ve been writing my diary in this newspaper for one year! Do you think I’ll get a cake? Yum. Hope it’s chocolate.

I am currently on “hold” for a small role on Desperate Housewives”. I’m pretty excited. On “hold” means that I am probably one of two or three Actresses they are deciding between hiring. I feel like a cow at a cattle auction. But I know better then to take it personally. It’s the process of casting, for better or worse.

It seems like lots of people are holding my career in the palms of their hands lately. The theater producer is considering my show, the sales job is deciding whether to employ me, and my future as a “Housewife” is dangling in front of me. My friend gave me some Deepak Chopra “success” cards for my birthday. Today I selected one that seems very appropriate so I’ll share: “It’s up to me to give life meaning—I don’t expect others to give meaning for me. I create my own reality”. How profound is that? Own my life. Stop sitting in people’s sweaty palms. I am so tired of being the victim of other people’s “wishy-washiness”. I don’t have the time. A friend once advised me to learn the meaning of the word “NO”. Sometimes no answer is a “no” disguised. I trust my own vision. I know there is an island of yes’s waiting for me. I just have to find it. In the movie “Million Dollar Baby”, Hilary Swanks character calls it “Risking everything for a dream that nobody sees but you”. We all have our own inner maps. I believe in fate but I always believe that we have the option to take the wrong turns.

I now have three part-time jobs. Running from one to the next keeps me very busy. Compared to this, being on stage is like a vacation at a spa. I have one more show at the Whitefire Theater. Then I’ll have to pack-up my truckload of props and furniture and move-on. It’s sort of like being in a traveling circus. I’m the clown, of course. Funny red hair and all.

I did get a college-booking agent. He’s really young. In our initial meeting I wanted to card him before he ordered a drink.

But he seems really hip and “in” with the college entertainment scene. Apparently there’s loads of money to be made. So I’ll be happy and willing to take my circus on the road. Maybe I can hit a few fraternity parties while I’m at it. Once a sorority girl, always a sorority girl. Did I ever mention the time I did “sorority rush” and got rejected by every sorority house? It was a great preparation for Hollywood. I just rushed again and eventually got into one. No one’s going to keep me out. No one’s going to tell me “You can’t enjoy this experience”. Like a sorority, this town has so many locked doors, so many secret passwords, so many rites of passage. And you’re either outside or inside the door. There’s no in between. So keep rushing until you get in or pick a lock or two if you have to. Who said life is fair?

Written by Rachel Bailit

The Bear Within

Another holiday weekend spent in retail prison. Can one night a week on stage sustain me? So far, yes. But I desire a much more balanced and complete life. When you’re poor, money does seem like it buys happiness.

But alas, times are changing! I just got my first paid booking to do my one-girl show at the Whitefire Theater on June 26th. I am very excited! And who knows, maybe a change from West Hollywood to the Valley is just what I need. Different climate.

More smog and heat may bring out the best in me.

I am looking for a money-man (or woman). It seems like the road to Broadway must be paved with dollar bills. How will I do it? Running your own show is expensive. How many times can I reuse my postcards? The “new dates” stickers on top of the “old dates” stickers? A show needs a budget. I’d like to hit on some of my relatives, they’ve offered, but I’m too embarrassed. They’re staunch conservative New Englanders. How will they feel financing a play in which I discuss boobs and sex, not to mention my sometimes dysfunctional family. No. Better to find someone on the outside.

I auditioned for a music video playing opposite Jason Alexander last week. I didn’t get it but I did cry in the audition. Not bad. My heart is accessible. Even for George Costanza.

Back in the Marilyn Monroe Theater this week. We’ve made the finishing touches on the show. It might be time to leave it alone now. The cake is baked. I’m already thinking of my next solo show. After all, this is what I “think” I want to do with the rest of my life. Time’s a wasting. There’s more Rachel then appears before the eye. My Producer friend once said, “You never really know anyone completely”. It’s a startling but beautiful thought. I think everyone should have secrets. It’s important to have a good relationship with yourself. I’m like a bear. I hibernate, nourish myself, and become strong within my own skin. Then I get on stage and let you see what’s inside. Then I become the bear again. And the cycle repeats. It’s called self-preservation.

Written by Rachel Bailit

Hookers rallying for good causes

My day on the set of DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES was anything but Desperate. I was given first class treatment all the way! The job reminded me of why I came to Hollywood in the first place. It’s amazing how the real professionals treat you with respect and appreciation while the wanna-be’s walk all over you. This set was as good as it gets. And my Desperate Housewife of choice was Teri Hatcher; a classy, intelligent and genuinely nice person. We had a scene together. I’ve never seen an Actress care so much about her choices and the truth and logic of her character. Maybe television can be as challenging as Theater. It’s all about what YOU bring to the table. Give an Oscar worthy performance in a student film, deliver a Tony winning role in a scene night in your acting school. Be the person you want to be in any circumstance. Same in life. Be honest in a room full of liars. Be the best.

Hookers and Witches. There seems to be a recurring theme in the parts I’m auditioning for. It must be my intimidating glare. At least I’m getting out now. Having a credit on a top TV show seems to have revitalized my career!

My show at the Whitefire was “okay”. Not as much of a party as it usually is. I’ve been so fortunate to have all good press but some lady, a teacher no less, had the audacity to write that my show was awful on Goldstar. I’d hate to be her student. No praise for effort or ideas for improvement, just “You’re awful”.

I know I’m not awful so it doesn’t matter. Besides, I can’t be everyone’s cup of tea. I’m too controversial (and hope to stay that way!).

I auditioned for a new JLO music video. I was shocked on how disorganized the audition was. I felt it was unfair that people waited hours to be seen while some arrived and were seen right away. So I became my best “Norma Rae” and got to work defending the rights of my fellow actors. It made me feel good. I hate seeing people being taken advantage of. I was blessed with a BIG mouth and I intend to use it. I could create a career patrolling auditions. Be an undercover agent for SAG. Or maybe I’d prefer to be like Spiderman and just do it to better the world. I’ll need a costume of course. And a new name.

Written by Rachel Bailit

Finding Luck in Unusual Places

I did it! All three acts in the Marilyn Monroe Theater at Strasberg on Wednesday night! I’ve been work shopping my one-woman show for two years and it’s finally come together.

The evening was scintillating. Besides buttoning my cardigan sweater wrong and improvising a tad, it went swimmingly well.

I hope to have an official opening in the fall.

It’s amazing how confidence has to be earned. Only by jumping off the cliff do we learn to trust the net will be there.

But the first jump is the hardest. In fact, it’s excruciating. But I wouldn’t trade the feeling of accomplishment for anything in the world. Success too, must be earned. Sure, it comes real effortlessly to some people. That’s never been the case with me. It seems that I’ve always had to put forth a substantial effort before things were given to me. When I was still, so was my career. It’s been a partnership. A give and take.

It’s similar to bargain shopping. It’s so easy to find something you love at Bloomingdales. But try a thrift store or a Ross and the adventure gets going. Maybe I enjoy the work. Or has life just conditioned me not to wait to have things handed to me?

Speaking of second-hand stores, I had a great stroke of “luck”. Two days before my show opened I still had no shoes (or money) for my “suburban housewife” in act 2. I entered Goodwill at 9am and there they were…the perfect pink tweed ballet flats with a ribbon to boot! They were in perfect condition and cost me 2.99. I would have paid 200. Dollars for them! Everything in my universe felt in place at that moment. God was at Goodwill. And my show would go on!

One little glitch, my bottom front tooth broke in half while eating a carrot tonight. I look like a witch if I smile real wide. I hope my Dentist can see me before my next show. I pray he’ll take a postdated check too. I don’t want to scare my audience. Although a little empathy wouldn’t hurt. I might look gritty. It might add character. Isn’t that how you win an Oscar in this town? Dare to act ugly.

Written by Rachel Bailit

Sidewalks and Golden Globes

As much as I would have loved to have been graced with a Golden Globe this past week, I can’t help but be amused at the career I’ve created in Hollywood. That is, without being an actual part of Hollywood. I’m a movie within a movie. I mean my theater is literally RIGHT up the street from CBS and right down the street from “The Lot”. So close that I could trip over some big movie executive, that is, if they actually walked anywhere. It’s so ironic to me. Can one be a star within one’s own life and be happy with that?

While visiting home a few weeks ago, I took a walk around my old neighborhood. I was comforted to see that while the town had grown and changed, the sidewalks were the original ones that I’d walked on as a child. I felt immense happiness seeing their imperfections, deep cracks, and uneven well-worn surfaces. Cars whished by me now and then. But in-between there was a poignant silence. It was then I realized that I was in on one of the biggest secrets of all time. The sidewalks were impervious to all the activity around them. Like the Zen still rock in the middle of the storm, my sidewalks held their own. What staying power they had! What a revelation! I, too, am like a sidewalk! I may not be Rodeo or Sunset but I’ve paved my concrete and laid down my road. That big movie executive just might take the road less traveled one day and find ME there! So that’s why stars adopt certain parts of freeways! And maybe that’s why my theater is on “Hayworth” street. What a smart cookie Rita was!

2007’s been good to me. One callback to be the new face of a potato chip campaign and one audition to comedically distract and convince TV viewers to rent Alamo cars! Now tell me that’s not more glamorous then winning a little golden statue!

Written by Rachel Bailit

The Art of Zen and Tongue Kissing

“Keep it simple”…that’s what a stranger told me today. Then it was verified when I saw a sign in a store window one minute later “simple”. I had been complaining that I live in a one-room apartment and work in a store that’s the size of some people’s walk-in closet. Is it possible that the Universe is telling me to keep it simple? What a dichotomy when I’m pursuing this larger-then-life career? Perhaps it’s all in the way I approach my career. Don’t get caught-up in the materialistic things that will imprison me, mentally and physically. The “overhead” that will stop me from soaring like a free bird into the arts of my choice.

Big news. I got a Manager this week. Even bigger news, she found ME! And she’s a real spitfire! And hungry. Like me. I had to drive down to San Diego to meet her. But it was worth it.

My second bit of BIG news is that I got a job! A real job that pays. It’s a new late-night sketch comedy show on the Cartoon Network called “Tim and Eric’s Awesome Show Great Job “. No, I’m not a cartoon character but I feel like one taking this job. Get this, I have to make-out with the lead guy. I’m slightly weirded-out by this. It’s all improv so hopefully I’ll get a few words in before he slips his tongue down my throat. It’s an Aftra job but I’m a “must join” so the money I earn will most likely go towards my membership into the union. So, I’m basically going to do the gig so I can get a current TV credit on my resume. “NYPD Blue” just isn’t cutting it! A kiss with a stranger= a new credit. How Hollywood is that???

Rehearsal on the second new act of my one-woman show is going great. In order to age twenty years, I’ve had to channel my eighth grade lesbian English teacher combined with a little of my straight Father. It’s an interesting combination. My voice has dropped about five registers and my femininity has all but vanished. Whatever it takes.

I was approached by a high-end Boston magazine to be among a small elite group of accomplished people from Boston to answer a question: “Which of your new year’s resolutions are you most likely to break?”(I haven’t figured out the answer yet). Isn’t that fabulous? If it doesn’t work for me in LA, I may work on becoming a celebrity in Boston. There’d be a lot less headaches and redheads. And I’m sure I can dig out that pair of wide-whale cords, my Fair Isle sweater and my mental corset.

Written by Rachel Bailit

I’ll Always Have Paris

I performed for a full house last week. I exited the stage and stood outside the door, listening to the applause before taking my curtain call. Just at that moment I thought “Can this applause sustain me for a week?” “Will it feed me when I’m down or encourage me to stay up?” What keeps us going? As James Dean once said “ Being an artist is the loneliest thing in the world”.

Not long ago, I was in a real funk. Living in isolation. Watching the world happening around me and secretly panicking that I was somehow being left behind. I’d watch lots of foreign films, especially French ones by geniuses like Jean-Luc Godard, reviling in the “joie de vie” with which these zestful Parisians lived. Whether they were walking down the Champs-Elysees like Jean Seaburg and Jean-Paul Belmondo in “Breathless” or whether they were line-dancing in a bar in “A Band Apart”…these characters seemed to be feeling so much, drinking in life.

Anywhere in the world seemed better then my small life in Los Angeles. Yes, I was depressed. And yes, I felt helpless. And then a miracle happened. I attended a meeting I almost wasn’t supposed to be at, met a producer, met a writer, got a script, got a director, and got on stage. My one-woman show saved not only my career but my life. It was time to leave my Parisians behind. It was time to find the “life” in my life. Some nights I still want to crawl into bed and cross-continents and be with those people. It’s okay every once in a while. I may never have the glamour I pine for, I may only feel traces of it when I flip through a Vogue magazine or splurge on a meal at Le Petit Bistro.

Whatever makes us feel alive is worth pursuing. I find what’s going on in North Korea and other parts of the world to be extremely threatening and depressing. I even fear I may not be able to travel freely one day and wonder if now is the time to take a hiatus and see the world. Maybe some day there will only be my movies. Stop Rachel. Listen to the applause. Remember what is good. Hold on to the happiness. No matter where it comes from. It’s yours.

Written by Rachel Bailit

The Imaginary Corset On My Brain and Body

I’ve been rehearsing the new second act of my show (which will be added in the beginning of 07’). I play myself twenty years from now. I’m having a tough time imagining how I’ll feel and look in twenty years. What kind of person I’ll be. How will I feel when I look back at my current self? I’ve been pondering the possibility of feeling shame. All of the sexy images…the show posters…Will it haunt me later? Will I feel embarrassed when I attend future PTA meetings or run for political office? Or when my kids google me and discover that my innocent “hooker” role on NYPD Blue “qualified” me for a listing on “Dr. Skin” (a loser pornographic website exploiting working Actresses). Or maybe I’ll be nostalgic? I might wish I could still pull-off the bustier look! Or even better, maybe I’ll be like Madonna and keep reinventing myself, creating my own idea of what it is to be a modern day mother and middle-aged woman. I only hope for inner peace. Whichever way I go.

Growing-up in conservative New England creates a permanent invisible corset on your body and brain. I sometimes wonder if my Hollywood life is an embarrassment to my family? Perhaps they can’t understand how much I’ve  had to evolve inside to be able to expose it on the outside. To stand on stage and feel empowered by my womanhood. An Actress trying to be taken seriously, breasts and all.

There are ten million TV shows being cast and I still don’t have an agent. I couldn’t bring myself around to sign with the baseball-loving agent who wouldn’t come see my work. I’m holding-out for someone better. Raising my standards.

I did audition for a coke commercial this week. In the meantime, my SAG health insurance runs out in January. It’s a problem staying “qualified” for the union insurance. I’ve done 50 shows on stage over the past fourteen months. In “SAG days”, I’d be on plan A by now! So I’m stocking-up on doctor visits. The other day I went to the dentist and had two and a half cavities filled. I’m on a payment plan. They hold my checks for a few months. I avoid a root canal.

My Gynecologist said he wants to come see the show. I won’t tell you where he was when he mentioned the idea. How can people separate the two? It’s the same with my old dentist. I never could understand how he could have dated me. Drilling and excavating the interior depths of my mouth and then kissing me a week later. Some people are really able to compartmentalize.

On the “list” for next week’s show: NBC casting!

Yipeeee! Ready for a series. Hope I squeeze it in with my Yiddish club booking in Palm Springs.

Written by Rachel Bailit

A 4-year-old boy was in my audience! I’m not PG 13!

We make art out of what is given to us. Sometimes we are given the Taj Mahal, sometimes we are given a concrete wall. Whatever our view is, that’s what we have and we better make the most of it. I had a money-less long weekend but I was happily surprised over the pleasure I experienced creating an inventive recipe with a box of pasta and a can of olives.

I knew I was missing out on some fantastic summer finale in Cape Cod or the Hamptons. But hey, sometimes the small things feel good. Grounding. My old acting teacher said I wouldn’t be so driven if I had money. He’s right.

I was thrown for a loop at my last show. A four-year-old boy was in my audience! Ahh! I’m not PG 13! Take that kid home! According to his Dad, he sees a lot of theater. I wasn’t anything special. Still. Oh, and then there was that nice couple who brought me Scientology pamphlets. Thank you. Most people bring me flowers. Something new!

I met another gem of an agent this week. He gave me a horrible script to read with him (which incidentally had the women aggressively coming on to the man). He prefaced the reading by telling me that “You look like every other Actress and movie star in this town, so you better be amazing for me to even consider you!” (Hmm, that’s interesting,I thought my problem was that I didn’t look like anyone but Carol Burnett!).

In between phone calls and other interruptions, we finally read the scene. He gave me a curt “Thank you” and whisked me out of his office to see the next hopeful, a Shania Twain look-alike who was waiting in the hall. I wanted to break-out into “That don’t impress me much”.

I met with a literary agent over coffee. He wants me to write three chapters of a book. I have my first sentence. I’m really excited. I’m most excited that things feel like they’re really starting to move in my life. They were static for soooo long.

I’ve emailed half of the DGA Directory. I’m up to the letter “G”. A Sitcom Director came to my show last week. She received my invite and actually showed-up! We were in the middle of a great post-show conversation when we were informed that there was a bomb scare at the Starbucks across the street. I finally get a big Director interested and we have to evacuate!

Go figure! I never even had a chance to say “good-bye”. My first thought was to grab all of my props…I knew I would never find another bustier that would fit so well. I waited outside in my costume in front of 7-11 for over an hour.

I guess it turned out okay. My friend Lisa, who was at the show, said my next column should read: “Bombshell drops bomb”…”Superpower boobs”. “Rachel Bailit’s performance is so powerful that a bomb literally explodes outside the Lee Strasberg Theater. Don’t worry, the cops, sexy firemen, and bomb squad have made the area safe again to come-out and see “Sugar Happens”. I know I shouldn’t joke about it. But as they say, it’s all in the timing. And p.s., if you don’t know about my superpower boobs, then you HAVE to see my show ASAP!

One last thing, I’m talking to the folks at the HBO Comedy Festival. Wouldn’t that be fun? Oh, and a Yiddish club outside of Palm Springs is interested in me for a gig outside of Palm Springs. If I get that I probably won’t have to eat pasta and olives for a while.

Written by Rachel Bailit

I asked a B+ Agent to see my show, but he only goes to see baseball games

Sitting at my retail “day job” wishing three hours would mysteriously pass. Money remains a major obstacle in my life…and why I work in a woman’s clothing boutique when I am a total shopaholic is beyond me!

Julia Louise-Dreyfus came in here, to the store, a few days ago..that is two days before she won her coveted Emmy!

She seemed really nice. I wanted to talk to her, tell her about my show, but she was in a rush…probably looking for a dress for the million of after parties she had to go to…the kind I dream about. I wonder what it must feel like to win an award. I’ve walked down quite a few red carpets but don’t have much to show for it except a few pictures on Wire Image.

I feel like such an outsider. I didn’t even watch the Emmys this year. I watched a few minutes of the pre-show but after an eight- hour day of selling clothes…I had no patience. I felt like Cinderella in her old dress watching the stepsisters all dressed-up.

I got a mystery call to audition for a series regular on a new sitcom. I totally sabotaged myself. I saw the competition and decided to pull my hair back to make myself look younger, I ended-up looking like a nun. They probably had seen a picture of “Sugar” in my show, and expected a hot babe to walk-in. Instead I looked like Father Dowling’s sidekick without the habit. My reading was solid. Too bad. Why am I afraid to be myself?

I had another weird experience this week. I met with a B+ Agent. I asked him if he would come see my show. He said he doesn’t go out to see shows –he only goes to see baseball games. When I asked “Don’t you need to se my work?” he replied, “No, I market people, that’s what I do”.

I’ll be signing with him…for now. Oh come-on, it’s TV season. A girl’s gotta get out!

A writer from the BBC. David Willis, came to my show and wants to interview me. Pretty funny, really, since my show felt like “Dawn of the Dead” last week. But not David, bless him and his laughing face. A strange and wonderful phenomenon is occurring. My theater is beginning to fill every week, and I don’t know who any of these people are! I wish they would stay and introduce themselves. I’ve just revealed my entire life to them and it’s a strange feeling knowing that I’ll never see them again. Do they walk away with tiny particles of me? My life is a public one now. I’ve signed-up for this.

I once bought a greeting card that read: “I came to this world to live-out loud”. I’m finally doing it. I feel vulnerable and excited at the same time. How can I possibly feel so happy when the world around me is in a terrible state? Wars are waging and new ones lurk around the corner. I’m scared. Am I making any kind of difference? Can I dish out enough “Sugar” to make a change in the world? Will I rise to the opportunity to make people feel good with my acting? To make people laugh? That would be a worthy goal in life. And maybe it could reach across borders. Countries. It’s easy to be despaired in these times. The world needs Hollywood to make them feel good. Either that or wake them up.

I once heard a quote about art that I fell in love with “Art is comforting the disturbed and disturbing the comfortable”.

Tomorrow night’s another show. Someone from E! Entertainment is coming. How about that?

Written by Rachel Bailit

“From Surviving near Disaster to becoming a barfly”

Life is especially good since I survived being mowed down by a motorist a few days ago! I was walking home from my morning expedition to the gym. The stoplight said green. I walked. A woman in a blue compact took her right on red and drove straight towards me. The strange thing was that she was looking right at me. Anyhow, I always wondered what I would do in a situation like that…like when you have those “falling” dreams and always wake-up in time. This time, I froze! She stopped inches away from my recently sculptured body. I looked at her in amazement and she looked back at me through her cracked window and said in her best valley voice : “I’m sorry”! Her tone betraying any real remorse. In fact, she sounded annoyed. Anyhow, not to be morbid but it was my first near death experience and let’s just say that I’m now a bit trepidatious crossing the street.

I went to see the new movie “Hollywoodland.” It’s great. Diane Lane. Now that’s one classy actress I’d like to emulate. She’s simultaneously strong and vulnerable . And her sexuality is so mature. Like the way I imagined Anna Karenina and all those other ethereal ladies of fiction, with whom I spent my lazy hours reading and living vicariously through.  I felt for Ben Afflect’s character “George”. Like his Superman, I feel I’ve been a bit pigeon-holed in this town. “Funny quirky character girl”. I can do so much more. I’m a dynamo at drama. Someone take a bet on me. I dare you.

My little studio apartment is such a mess. So messy that my building manager walked in my apartment and told me it looked like I had robbed myself! It’s very challenging living in a studio. I am literally busting-out of my closets. If you go to get a cup of sugar in the kitchen cabinet, you may find a box of headshots instead. And where the headshots should be kept, you may find the toilet paper. But it’s affordable and it’s by the beach.

I’m taking on another play “Savage in Limbo” at the Strasberg Theater in February. Playing a spectacular Barfly! I’ll be doing double time with my one-woman show. The Hooker and the Barfly. Sounds like a good book title. Speaking of, I better get going on writing those chapters. I don’t want that literary agent to think I’m not serious. It’s very hard to focus with so many interests. But I’m grateful I have them. I have a good friend who told me that she’s never discovered her passion in her life. I knew mine early on. Even when it didn’t make sense. That’s not to say I haven’t doubted my choices and their worthiness ten time over.

Rosh Hashanah started last Friday. I’m excited and ready to take stock, take responsibility (the tough part), renew my vows and start fresh…with the highest intentions. Of course. Happy New year to all!

Written by Rachel Bailit

“Asking for fervent years”

I’m reading “Ask and it is Given”. I’m learning that if I align my thoughts with my desires, a powerful energy will attract them to me. But beware, the same works with negative thoughts. So I have to retrain my mind to only be optimistic, positive and clear. This is tough work. I’ll need a lobotomy.

I’m putting-up all three acts of my one-woman show this week. I’m frightened and excited at the same time. In rehearsal, my mind is playing mental ping-pong with the new material. Sometimes I lose the ball altogether and just sit there wondering what the heck my next thought/line is. I’ve been told that these moments “seem” incredibly deep from the outside. Go figure!

These vacant moments are an Actor’s nightmare.

I have almost 40 pages of single-spaced words in my show. Some sequiturs are as puzzling as a Rubik’s cube to me. But eventually, I always find the connection. Like in life, we need to understand how to navigate our reactions to situations and decide how best to respond. Our script of who we are as people is written in our hearts. Do we stay true to it? Or do we have to read two pilots, 10 features and a 500-page biography just to remember? Sequiturs require faith. When the going gets tough we must remember who we are.

Martin Landau came to our show. He had wonderful tales of Hollywood and encouraged me to audition for the Actor’s studio (for the third time). The first time, I was told my acting style resembled Carol Burnett (not what you want to hear from a “method” establishment). Apparently it took Dustin Hoffman many tries and look at him! We’ll see.

I feel an epiphany coming on from that book “Ask and it is Given”…something good is coming my way. I’ve sacrificed too much. As Harold Clurman coined them, these are my “fervent years”.

Written by Rachel Bailit

“Silence Isn’t Always Golden”

It’s never a good sign when the phone doesn’t ring. I was on “hold” to be the face of a new potato chip campaign. I was set to work Monday. Friday afternoon…no call. No email. I had to silently surrender. I wouldn’t be crunching and chewing my way to a financial fortune. In fact I couldn’t make any noise. My agent didn’t want to hear me whine. I couldn’t write a letter, get on TV or speak to the President of the chip company. I had to sit with it. Lesson #1 in Hollywood: They only call when they say yes. If it’s a no, you get the silent treatment. And you’re left on your on to cope (unless you have a good shrink). You’d think it would get easier after so many years. But it doesn’t. The casting process is cruel. Period.

I’ve decided to try and be a contender for an Ovation Award.

I may even join Equity. I’m getting serious. We’ve set a preliminary date in April to mount the second two acts of my show. It helps to have a goal. There’s no structure when you’re an Actress. It’s all about self-discipline. No boss looking over your shoulder, no time clock, no performance reports. It’s all YOU. It’s a self-made career. You must be rigorous.

I really want some change in my life. I see my show as an opportunity to travel the world and entertain. I envision myself meeting people from all walks of life. Making them laugh, sharing my story, and connecting. Becoming an Ambassador for all struggling Actresses in Hollywood. An Ambassador of HOPE.

That said, it’s time to run-off to my retail day job. I meet a lot of people there. I even met someone from HBO who is coming to my show next week. How cool is that? You never know whom you’re selling underwear to…so put on the smile and be at your best. We’re living in the land of possibilities!

Written by Rachel Bailit

“Ticket To Ride”

Agenda. Seems like everyone’s got one. When a woman approached me in a store about coming to a Hare Krishna center with her, I returned the invite with a postcard to my show. It only seemed right. It was an exchange. If we had no agendas we’d have no motivations and in turn no purpose to our lives.

I have a new headshot. Having a new headshot always makes me feel like I have a new lease on life. As though no other picture in the past really could capture or sell me the way this one will. It’s pure disillusionment. But it makes me feel better.

On my return flight home from Boston last week, I took advantage of the fresh clarity I possessed from being out of Hollywood for a mere four days. I thought long and hard. How much longer can I live in this fantasy world? Days become years. Opportunities to live a broader life that encompasses more than “making it in Hollywood” pass by. It seems that every time I return to LA I purchase a ticket much like one would to Disneyland. Time stops. Everyone else is at the park too. And we get so caught-up with the thrill of the rides, the rise and decent of the roller coasters, the fantasy and charades of the costumes and the darkness of the Haunted House. So like Hollywood. I want to choose another destination. I want a ticket to a destination that’s not the “Happiest place on earth” but maybe the “realest place on earth”. I want to see what’s in the haunted house with me. I want to see who’s in the costumes beside me. I want clarity.

But I’ve bought the ticket. And I’m going to have to finish this particular ride because I’ve paid my admission and until I can find a safe place to get off, I’ll have to just wait.

P.S. New Year’s Eve at Henry Jaglom’s party was exciting. Eclectic people and artists surrounded me. I felt at home. Peter Bogdonovitch was there. He didn’t remember me from “Festival In Cannes”. Oh well. I remembered him. That’s all that matters. You can’t depend on other people to make your life meaningful. It’s your story. Write it well.

Written by Rachel Bailit

“On my second opening night, Al Pacino is sitting in my back row…”

It’s Wednesday morning. The sweetest day of the week. I bounce out of bed with the hope and determination of a prizefighter. Tonight is the night of my one-girl show “Sugar Happens”. It’s hard to believe that my show has been running over a year, every Wednesday night like clockwork.

Like Al Pacino told me “Keep working at it”.

Did I mention Al? My second opening night, unbeknownst to me, Al Pacino was sitting in my back row. The air felt tense that night. I wanted to run off the stage five minutes in…but the tension passed. Thank G-D for The Method. Fifty minutes of exploiting every possible area of my life, sharing every dirty secret about Hollywood and changing my skimpy clothes three times…I made it! Then I had a one-on-one talk with Al. It was a dream come true. He encouraged me, related to me and even said he’d be lucky to work with me”. I’ll never be the same.

Back to 2006…Wednesday night…I run out of my rent control door and head to the gym…fighting the urge run lines in my head but then silently succumbing to the temptation, I know this piece backwards and forwards but I don’t want to take it for granted. I don’t want to take anything for granted.

The Strasberg Institute gives me a precious opportunity every week and I will be prepared. I do a habitual workout, deluding myself that it will have a dramatic effect on my physique in only nine hours. That done, it’s back to my home computer to send show reminders to friends and industry. “See you tonight”!”.

On a good week, when I have the $30., I’ll get a blow-dry. On a bad week, I’ll stick in my hair extensions and pray for the best. I have not become rich on my show.In fact, I haven’t made a dollar. Ah! The purity of art! I make my money doing an array of odd jobs. The insecurity is taxing but makes for great material.

I actually come from a nice middle-class family. My father is even a doctor.  Actually, all my relatives are doctors.I’m the black sheep. I left Boston and my family of doctors for a career in Hollywood. It hasn’t exactly turned-out as I planned it. But as I say in my show, “I’ve been in way more films than the average American”. And I’m still here.

Miracles happen every day. I even talked with “Access Hollywood” today. I’m trying to pitch a story about “Actors trying to make it in solo shows”. Maybe it will fly, Maybe I’ll fill-up my 25-seat theater tonight.

Did I mention I met with Gary Marshall? What a nice guy! I still don’t have an agent. . I find that very weird.My face and bustier covered body look onto Santa Monica Boulevard for all to see. I get lots of press. I love the press.I’ll always give my time to the press. I’ll make them cookies and bring them to their cars as they stake me out. I’ll know their children’s names and birthdays.They’ll of course know mine.

Wake-up Rachel, I’m floating away again.My father recently told me that I live in half-fantasy and half-reality. He’s right. I didn’t even get defensive this time. I’ve been defending my life to my parents for years. They’re actually very supportive. But there is one thing they’ll never understand-that’s my lack of security: a savings account, IRAs, mutual funds, a house, a husband…where is it all?

I say, “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay”, Secretly I panic. Why didn’t I meet a nice Jewish guy on JDate? How did I get off the beaten track? Where is my East Coast sensibility? But then I look at the palm trees, the Hollywood sign, my life and I think: “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be”.

Sugar Happens. That’s the name of my show. Not S—t Happens”. By the way. I’m an optimist if you didn’t notice.

Written by Rachel Bailit