Day Four

I had to write a bio for my job-- my job is working in selection for a scholarship program. Anyhow. This is the story of how I decided to be a movie star. In case you want to know my backstory. Oh, how silly.

Madeline Walter, from the state of New Jersey—an active high school student who was a jack of many trades at her large public high school. Not technically a “leader” coming from high school, she knew how to work hard, get impeccable grades, and try new things—like playing varsity field hockey or running the science fair. She also loved acting. After several summers volunteering with her church to repair homes, she also realized that she cared a great deal about the world around her and wanted to change it, to fix it. Not knowing how, she stumbled upon the Robertson Scholars Program (in the midst of 13 college applications, to Ivy League Schools and other private “top tier” institutions), which promised her the tools to change the world. She was accepted and enrolled.

Starting college with plans to learn how to change the world, she tried studying political science, cultural anthropology, documentary film, and finally public policy as her major. She committed to these things. She spent her first college summer at in Southeastern Kentucky. She became absorbed in her community, and despite her limited training (one class at the CDS), spent 6 weeks (of many sleepless nights) shooting and editing a documentary called “Loud and Clear, Voices of Kentucky’s Mountains,” – a 12-minute short with original interviews of 7 anti-coal activists, still used by a grassroots group to organize, and screened at a couple of small festivals.

She returned to school deciding that she was a “documentarian,” and so she wanted to do something “big.” She worked with some student, and created the first ever joint Student Documentary Festival at her University—it was actually quite cool and ran for two years. During her sophomore year Spring semester, she also became the organizer of a student group called Students of the World—she organized and led a trip to China for thirteen students to document the cusp of the Chinese AIDS crisis. She had never been out of the country before—she’s rather addicted to doing things she shouldn’t know how to do.

That summer, she also went to South Africa and made promotional videos for the Amy Biehl Foundation—this included editing nights in the District Six Museum, where Madeline made a friend who had Final Cut Pro.

BUT—she wasn’t excited about documentaries and AIDS in the way that she had always been excited about acting— not for the principle of the activity, but for the process of the activity—it was the only work she could remember feeling such a sense of purpose and a lack of doubt while she was doing. So—she decided to drop what she was doing and start acting—but not before starting another chapter of Students of the World, which is still up and running.

She lost a lot of sleep wondering if she was still doing God’s work on the earth. She decided maybe God wanted little people to be happy.

The Robertson Program encouraged this change, and funded her to spend her third Robertson Summer going to an acting conservatory in New York City and interning with a Broadway production company. She enjoyed that.

Her senior year, she produced a play at her school, which then went to the New York Fringe Festival, where she (and her sweet parents) raised 12,000 donated dollars in three months, hired a cast of eight, a publicist, and a director, and sold out several shows, moving on to the Fringe Encore Series. She’d sure as hell never done that before. Her website is www.marybrigit.com -- you can read reviews there. Some of them are good. The play will be performed next in Rhode Island in December of 2008 by a community college.

After this experience, she went to work for her scholarship program because she wanted to give back. They’ve given her time during her 9-5 job this year to do the following things (in addition to her selection job):

- Assistant Direct Topdog/Underdog at a professional Rep Theatre

- Star in the literary play George

- Get an agent and two auditions in Raleigh, one of which was for a short film about Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.

- Teach a writing and theatre class for a group of women at an INCREDIBLE drug and alcohol rehabilitation center.

- Get ready to go to Los Angeles to become a movie star—with a great deal of encouragement and support—including contracting me to supervise our promotional video project for the next year while I’m in LA.

Until next time,

The woman with the bio,

Madeline

Day Three

I spent the past four days largely in bed-- I got my upper wisdom teeth out on Friday, and I spent the next several days recuperating under the care of my grandma, who, appropriately, lives in a little city called Graham(a).
She is not thrilled about my upcoming trip to Los Angeles. Neither is my mother. My mother with good reason, as she has experienced firsthand the ups and the downs of the ruthless entertainment industry, and while extremely talented, was not herself a movie star. However, a great deal of their concerns come in the form of grim pieces of information I absolutely know already.
Such as:
"You'll need to lose ten pounds. Unless you want to be typecast as the fat happy girl. You don't think so? Fine! Let an agent tell you!"
"You're going to need to know people out there. It's all about who you know out there."
"You'll have to drive a lot in Los Angeles! A lot of cars there!"
"Hmmmm....you're not going to have the health benefits that you have in your current job (which, by the way, has some of the best health benefits available). That'll be another hard thing."

I'm not sure what they want me to do exactly. I'm sure if I told them I'd decided to stay in North Carolina and continue to be an admissions officer they'd say,
"Lots of paper cuts, reading those applications. It's hard work!"

But, they echo my inner thoughts about the difficulty of moving-- in fact, only now do I really appreciate how hard it is to relocate-- not as a college student leaving the nest of the university and jumping into a job in a new city, but as a person, leaving the security, the familiarity, leaving the ways you've learned to be a good person in one setting and trying to re-learn how to be a good person in a place that has nothing to do with you, a place where nobody needs you, and you need something, but you're not even sure what it looks like yet. That's the scariest intangible part of this jump-- the fuzziness of it. I can't quite make out what my difficulties or what my saving graces will be. So much of it will begin the moment I get in my car and get far enough from the East Coast to be on a day trip.

BUT-- the intangible is coupled with some very tangible obstacles, further confirming the fact that art and money are inextricably linked, and for an artist, making her living is just as vital as creating her characters. Take for example, health insurance-- getting two measly teeth out cost me 98 dollars on Friday-- without insurance? $981 dollars. Which is about one quarter of all of my savings-- which, after working for a year amount today to $3,172. Am I a compulsive spender? No way-- but I eat, and I had to buy a car. In one sitting, I wrote away a quarter of my savings just for the warranty. Which brings me to the question of making a living at all-- if a full time, low-wage job puts me almost at even in one of the cheapest places to live in the country, what about in one of the most expensive places to live? Another one of the post-college shocks-- people don't just make bold moves because they have the balls. It's usually because they have parents who are still taking care of them-- mine are-- how do you think I got the car that will get me to Los Angeles? Who do you think is paying for the through-the-roof, under 25 insurance? And come next year, when I'm not gainfully employed, more of that parental support will be shed.

Simply meaning, for a lot of real reasons-- like reasons of health and risk management, this is a stupid move, an irresponsible move, a move very typical of my generation and station in life, a group of people that believes in following our dreams because we've never remotely had to work for survival.

I'm still doing it, I'm still going. I just don't have delusions of myself as queen of the wild frontier. So what? Dreaming is not for the stupid.

Until next time,
Slowly but Surely working the Vicadin out of her system,
But still a little sore and loopy,
Madeline

Day Two

I'm selling my car-- which is only peripherally related to wanting to be a movie star-- but related because I just bought a new car. A 2008 Nissan Sentra. A car for reliability, economy, maneuverability, and safety. Because I plan to drive it across the country. To move to Los Angeles. To become an actor.

Since I finally bought a new car (after a month of obsessive comparison shopping), I have to sell my Old Car. Let me provide a resume for my Old Car:
Name: Buick LeSabre
Birthdate: 1992
Qualifications:
Good Engine
Couch-like Seats
Surprisingly large amount of storage space
Peeling Paint on the ceiling
Needs new struts/a tie rod (translation: you can't drive it unless you get it fixed)
Passenger side lock only works manually
Tape Player (broken)
Cracked Windshield
Busted Front Tire
Okay Other Tires But I Bought Them Used, So Drive At Your Own Risk

Asking Price: $995 (like $1,000 but I'm tricking you.)

So-- put yourself in this position: you are looking through Craig's List and you see a car that looks something like the one above. You decide it's exactly the car you need. That's because you're desperate.

Over the past day, I've gotten constant calls from people in bad enough situations to want to buy a nine hundred dollar broken Buick. Yesterday a man named Earl called-- he was going to take a day off of work to drive 2 hours and get my car. He just finished chemotherapy. A woman named Laura called me today-- her car just got stolen. Another woman just called-- her house was foreclosed and she needs somewhere to stay.

That last phone call didn't happen. BUT- can't you see how I feel like I'm preying on the victims of fate? So-- every time someone says they want the car, I make sure to say, "It's not really driveable, you know that?" I feel like I'm turning a blind eye to people who need more than a nine hundred dollar car-- I'm close to giving them my new car.

Oh well. Today I also made a calendar for my website's construction. This website will have all sorts of goodies on it-- such as videos of me acting. It will be quite a romp.

Until next time,
The Merciless Weasel of a Saleswoman, Me

Day One

I've been killing lots of bugs with my bare hands recently-- I think it's bad karma. But for some reason, there have been a great deal of small bugs in my room-- last week, I discovered a clan of ants pouring out of a hole in my ceiling, crawling down the edge of a poster, trailing down the side of my shelf. I blasted them with a large can of "Black Flag," but there are still occasional ants that crawl across my desk. I've gotten into the habit of just crushing them with my fingers, as though it's no big deal to be taking three lives a sitting.

I'm worried about karma at the moment because it seems to be the only thing that I have to count on. Today was my first day sitting down and really "planning" my move to Los Angeles. My plan? Go to Los Angeles, become a movie star. My reasoning? I've always wanted to. I haven't always admitted that desire, but when I was younger, I remember myself imagining myself answering questions on David Letterman. Hell, now, I imagine myself answering questions on David Letterman-- and I want to be in US Weekly-- I want to be chased by paparazzi, I want to be scrutinized about my weight so I can make a public statement empowering women. "A size 8 to 10 is NOT fat."

So- off to Los Angeles it is. I'm leaving on August 18th-- mark my words, it will happen. I've even planned to travel with my lovely friend Michele, who must be back in Boston by August 26th to continue getting a PhD in clinical psychology. I do not have a place to live. I do not have a concrete idea of what becoming a movie star entails, but I've committed myself to spending two full days a week "planning."

Today, I spent most of my day listening to myself hyperventilate. I woke up at 10:30, postponing my anxiety ever so slightly, and then spent most of my day doing the following things.
- Making a list.
- Sending three or four emails to people who currently live in Los Angeles in order to ask them questions about Los Angeles.
- Ordering a book off Amazon entitled, "Acting is Everything: An Actor's Guidebook for a Successful Career in Los Angeles."

I feel like I might die. I'm spending an incredible amount of time in planning limbo-- am I wasting my time by reading a book about acting? Am I just writing emails because it creates the illusion of taking action? Probably.

Oh yes, in true LA fashion, the other thing I did today was go to the gym. And I had the best workout I've had in weeks, because my heart was already racing as I pumped on the elliptical machine, trying to justify to myself why I've chosen to pursue acting instead of writing, as I listened to the refrain of a song overhead singing, "Love me, love me, love me, sex machine." Maybe I should be a writer.

For my second day, I plan to write a few more emails to a few more people, I plan to read some of my book that I ordered off of Amazon, and I plan to write a little bit-- write some video sketches perhaps, that I might be able to film and post on a website of sorts.

That's the most terrifying part though-- the writing part-- I'm very afraid of writing. I'm afraid of becoming absorbed in something and not finishing it. I'm sick with the possibility of becoming invested in something that I won't see through-- and I'm really quite frightened of writing something good and not knowing what to do with it, not having of sense of where to send it, where to put it, keeping it on my hard drive and maybe showing it to a friend. That is, I'm sure an unhealthy concern.

Alas, we all have our vices. Until next time,
the future Marilyn Monroe