I'm sitting at the KSL newsdesk in this photo.
It portends nothing.
Well, my life just keeps being weird. This week it included phrases like 'screen test' and 'would you read for this part' and 'we were looking for a dowdy 50-year old and naturally thought of you.'
I gotta tell you, talk like that turns a girl's head.
What the project is and who is involved is not the point. Also, I'm pretty sure I'll be kneecapped if I spill any more beans than that, at least for the time being. And I have no idea if I turned out to be what they were looking for, so we'll all just have to wait and see.
Here's the real point: I discovered this week that I am what might best be described as an 'empathetic steamroller.'
I was asked to read a few lines in front of a camera, lines that were spoken by a middle-aged woman who had pretty much been defeated by life. This gal feels invisible, unseen and unheard by everyone except maybe Edward Cullen, who is -- evidently -- taken.
So I read. And I 'acted.' Oy. Acting. What's that all about?
I realized that I was trying to portray the kind of woman I usually roll right over the top of. I don't mean to do it; it's just that by the time I notice she's there my gigantic personality has already squashed her flat. And no amount of apologizing and attempts to fluff up her self-esteem is going to get me off the hook. From now on, she'll duck into the ladies' room whenever she sees me coming.
So after many numerous takes, the director said, "DeNae, I just don't believe you. I don't believe anything you're saying."
To which I wanted to respond, "Dude! I don't know this woman. I've never been this woman. And I have all the theatrical skills of an ironing board. At this point I could tell you my social security number and I wouldn't expect you to believe me."
So then he said, "You know, just talk. Forget the script. Just be this woman for a couple of minutes, and say whatever comes to mind."
Well, I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to get inside the heart and feelings of a person I normally cast in the role of 'Road Kill Number 742.' But the director was a friend, and I had announced to the universe by way of vlogging that I was going to do new things, and the camera was right there...
...so I cleared my throat and said, "I know..."
And then I began to cry.
Real crying, not 'Vicks VapoRub under the eyes' crying.
And the more I spoke the thoughts of this character, the more I cried. I didn't like knowing how she felt. I didn't enjoy understanding that it was steamrollers like me who often contributed to those tears. Sometimes there isn't an "Oops, my bad" big enough to put the pieces together again.
I honestly don't know how to fix this, because none of it is deliberate so it's hard to deliberately change. But I do know one thing for sure:
I am never vlogging again.