Do You Know The Muffin Man Who Lives in Westhampton? Otherwise Entitled: I Do Not Have Breast Cancer!

Can we pause for a moment and talk about the man sitting across from me on the subway this evening? Can we talk about the fact that he APPEARED normal and polite and sane UNTIL he busted out a Q-tip and proceeded to CLEAN OUT HIS RIGHT EAR!? With the train in motion. With a crowded subway car full of people. I just, no. Let's not pause or talk about it. It really was only worth a mention. The Hell!?

Can we talk about the fact that I'm flickr-ing pictures!? Pretty pictures! They are actually a YEAR'S worth of pictures I stole off my family digital camera. Therefore, when uploaded onto flickr you get MY college graduation and instantly, Tom's graduation a YEAR later! Also includes pics of my sister's prom and a few random photos of my siblings and I sitting on a couch, giving "Why The Hell Are You Taking My Picture?" looks. They are GOOD photos, people.

I love that I upload pictures at 12:30 in the morning. It's an exciting task that I can't seem to put a stop to and go to bed even though I'M SO FREAKING TIRED. Can we talk about that? Did we talk about that already? Well. We briefly discussed my awful audition in a previous post. OH! I promised to discuss Muffin the realtor with all of you.

Condensed Story: I went with my roommate to Westhampton to help her tidy up the house she's going to be nannying in this summer. Muffin, the realtor, was there. Her God-given name is Muffin. I'm not lying. I COULD NOT MAKE THAT UP. She has a thick Virginian accent and I'm still not sure how she ended up renting real estate in the Hamptons, even though I talked to her way more than was necessary.

We discussed nannying, the Hampton beaches, my Long Island roots and also, my budding acting career. At one point, Muffin turned to me and drawled,

"So, tell me Laura, is this acting thing as hard as everyone says it is?"

Honestly, what do you tell someone who asks you such an ignorant question? You could go on and on about how you're an ARTIST and how you create ART and how DEEP it all is. But really, why? Especially after the week I had, I wanted to tell her that I stand in front of people and they judge me based on my looks and I go home and run 4 miles. Or perhaps mention that I often get up at 6 am and wait in line for just 30 seconds to sing a song that the accompanist can't play and on Monday I forgot the lyrics and it was mortifying. Or maybe just casually mention that I never quite feel good enough and always feel behind, running to catch up.

But why bother? Instead I told her it was pretty darn easy and that she should give it a shot. Why not? With a name like Muffin, I think she has a pretty good chance.

Moving on again! Can we also discuss my doctor appointment this past Wednesday?

Soooo as some of you know, a few months ago, I had a regular medical check-up and some stuff went wrong. The words "lump in right breast" entered my vocabulary and then were followed up with scary Grown-Up phrases like "sonogram" and "biopsy" and "Give Us Your Co-Pay Or We Will Kill You!". I was never 100% concerned and neither were the doctors. I have no family history of breast cancer and I'm also relatively young. I DO have fibrocystic breast disease which will probably account for tons more cysts showing up in the near and distant future. HOWEVER, on Wednesday, I had a sonogram to see what the measly little lump was up to.

I put on a royal blue gown that opened in the front and was really, a site to behold. You know, if you ever think you're getting a little sure of yourself or a little too confident or feeling a little too pretty? You might try putting on a bright blue paper hospital gown that leaves your entire upper body exposed, while keeping your running shorts and sneakers on. Let me tell you, it is a HUMBLING experience to catch sight of yourself in the mirror. It's a huge FASHION VICTIM slap in the face, believe you me.

SO. After dressing myself to the nines, I got smeared with that awful jelly goo and the technician performed the sonogram. (I say "performed" because while she was just routinely moving a piece of metal around my lubricated body, she did it with a bit of FLAIR!) I don't know WHAT I'm going to do when I have a sonogram to see one of my unborn children because just the fact that I saw my BREAST TISSUE on the screen in black and white squiggly lines was downright FASCINATING TO ME. My fatty tissue! My very own! On a SCREEN! Oh joy! I'm pretty much the most amazing living creature ever to grace the planet!

ANYWAY. The doctor came in after looking at the pictures and told me, get this: THAT MY LUMP HAD...

DISAPPEARED!!!!!!!!!!!!

You heard me. The nasty nearly cancerous lump was INEXPLICABLY GONE!

VANISHED!

POOF!

Granted, there was another lump somewhere else that had popped up but REGARDLESS. She doesn't think it's serious and so *I* don't think it's serious and the lesson here is NOT that breast tissue looks awesome during a sonogram OR that I will have cysts everywhere for the rest of my life (hopefully, all benign). NO NO NO the lesson learned here folks is that I HAVE MAGICAL BREASTS.

They are full of wizardlike mystical powers. Seriously. The lump DISAPPEARED, y'all! Vaporated into thin air! I know I should be jumping up and down about my lack of cancer but seriously? The fact that I possess MAGICAL POWERS just kinds of strikes me down in silenced awe.





You too, right?

I knew it.

Please Pardon Our Appearance While We Renovate Laura's Entire Life!

I went to an audition today. Let's create a Suckage Scale, shall we? Let's allow 100% to be the most Suckage You Could Ever Suck and let 0% be a Perfect Image of Perfection, Where My Voice Floats Like A Hummingbird and There Is Not Only A Live Accompanist In The Room But Also the Baby Einstein Orchestra and They Give Me The Job On The Spot and Also An Academy Award. I'd say this morning I was at a 45% Suckage Rating. That's not half-bad considering I forgot the words and made up the lyrics (To "Forum!" HAAA! I did that show in COLLEGE! Haaaaaaaa forgot the words! Me! Wee!) and also considering the casting director was ON HIS CELL PHONE as I sang. Hm. I'd say 45% was freaking ROCKSTAR of me. Eh. Better luck tomorrow, I hope.

Soooooooo! Hey kids. I'm back from a graduation weekend in Buffalo. It was all sorts of CRIZ-AZY. I wrote an original post about it and deleted it for various reasons, so for those of you who missed it, here is the edited version:

I drove up Friday and it took under 7 hours. Not BAD but not good. I had two of Tom's siblings in the car with me and so that was fun. What was NOT fun? My uterus. Who was, at the time, very, very angry. I think that's all I need to say about THAT.

We arrived at the end of Tom's Honors Convocation. I definitely got there in time to see a really boring professor read really bad poetry and also Dr. Clyde Herreid, who gave the final address which included a quote from Dr. Seuss. I once took a "Case Study in Science" class with the aforementioned Dr. Herreid. (I know! I know! I was SMART once!!) It was a class geared specifically for Honors students and so the room was full of engineers and biochemists. And I sat in the middle of them, majoring in music theatre.

At one point he said to me, "You know. My DAUGHTER was an actress. At least she TRIED to be. She wasn't very good. She lives in Colorado and works in broadcasting. Do you think YOU are good enough to succeed in such a competitive field?"

I told him I wasn't sure but that obviously HE thought so, considering that he chose me to receive the Honors Department's Creative and Performing Arts Scholarship, which gave me $2,500 a year. He coughed, paused and continued to suggest in a roundabout way that I should change my major. He stopped paying any attention to me in class after that and I finished the course with an A and a decision to never give the Honors Department any regard after that.

The rest of the weekend passed by in a whirlwind and included a few late nights and two magnificent runs with my uncle on the bike path. Big Fat Negative Experience? Tom told David and I that we missed a TOTALLY ROCKIN' PARTY that he threw the night before we arrived. Apparently, it was amazing and everyone in the world came and stayed until 5 am and WOAH wish you coulda been there, it was BRILLIANT! I was utterly confused as to why Tom would throw a party with ALL the people I would have LOVED to see the DAY BEFORE I got there. David was equally hurt and offended.

Tom failed to see the problem. He didn't really see what the big deal was. (Um. What?) We tried explaining it to him on the drive home, but gave up. Suffice it to say, David and I are throwing a HUGE KICK ASS PARTY! It is going to be FIERCE and CRAZY and people are going to stay until 8 AM! Gonna get DIRTAY! It is going to be INSANELY OFF THE HOOK and everyone can come except Tom. Also?

The party is yesterday.

The commencement on Sunday was long and Chuck Schumer gave the SAME EXACT SPEECH HE GAVE LAST YEAR and we passed the time by writing down last names of people I could steal.

LAURA LIU LIU WONG!

LAURA RICHARD WADSWORTH

LAURA BLATTER! EW!? Laura BLADDER?!?

Some kid's name was Shea W. Bigsby, which I really enjoyed. I wanted to copy the Bigsby but David went a step further and told me to steal his whole name. I could be Laura Shea Bigsby! SWEET. The best part about graduation was when it was Tom's turn and they MISPRONOUNCED "DeTrinis". I'm talking a CATASTROPHIC pronunciation. I want to say it was Mary Clare of the residence halls who did it, too. Sure enough, they were going down the names of the Theatre & Dance Department and they got to Tom and Mary Clare shouted out in a booming voice,

"Thomas...TRINANIAAS!" Um. I'm sure that DeTrinis looks a lot like Trinaniananaias. But you know what? It's kind of totally different. So, that was hilarious and horrific at the same time.

That's all I want to say about Buffalo! OH! Except that I went to Jason Bravo's to hang out for awhile and we sang Britney Spears' "Lucky" as a dramatic ballad. It could very well be the best thing I've ever done. ANYWAY. Buffalo? It was really an odd experience because nobody was there that I wanted to see; everything was completely different. And I guess I elaborated on those feelings in the first draft of this post but I just had to delete it because it didn't say what I wanted it to say. I am just sucking at blogging lately. (Suckage Rating For Blog: 68%)

Sorry. I've been more angry than funny lately. Though honestly, on a regular basis, I am not that funny.

Fear not. Funnier (?) entry to follow. Possibly involving the 6-mile AIDS walk I did yesterday and/or a realtor in Westhampton named Muffin. (Clarification: I do not think AIDS is funny. I DID think Regina's 1.4 year old daughter waving a gay flag WAS funny. And also? MUFFIN. That realtor's name was MUFFIN.) It sounds unbelievable, doesn't it? Oh, c'mon. You can trust me.

Would I lie to you? ;)

Peace.

Hi! My name is WHAT? My name is WHO? My name is...

So hey remember that little post about freelancing with an agent?

How about another post where I mention I'm now freelancing with TWO AGENTS?! I know, I know. It's insane.

Meeting #2 did not involve herbal tea or palm tree leaves EITHER, but went quite awkwardly as I cared WAY too much and was trying WAY too hard not to come off inarticulate and/or stupid. The result of course was that I came off inarticulate and/or stupid. It went something like this:

AGENT: Hey Laura! The weather is beautiful! Did you bring some extra pictures for me?

ME: Oh yeah totally! *goes into bag, comes up with ONE, meekly hands it over and apologizes, offers to bring more tomorrow*

AGENT: So, Laura. Blah blah you were really great the other night!

ME: *bursts out laughing at sexual innuendo*

AGENT: *looks confused*

ME: Oh, right. When I auditioned for you. Mmmmhmm. Thanks.

AGENT: So, which casting directors know you?

ME: *mispronounces a major casting director's first name*

AGENT: Um. Right. Well. We'd like to submit you for things, see how it goes and then perhaps look into enhancing our relationship in a few months.

ME: That would be so SUPER COOL. *Thinking: Enhancing a relationship!? Hee! I don't care if you are gay, you are my boyfriend!*

AGENT: Right. Um. The thing is, well. Two things. We, my associate and I, don't LOVE your headshot.

ME: *digs nails into couch*

AGENT: And I feel bad saying this since I just met you but, my associate and I think you could use a name change.

ME: *contemplates poking eyes out with office pens*

ASSOCIATE: We don't want to rush you into anything! We just think it's kind of...

ME: Flat??

AGENT: Yes! Flat. It just doesn't POP! And I don't think it'll PREVENT you from getting work but...

ME: They warned me about this in college. It just needs...to flow? Right?

AGENT/ASSOCIATE TOGETHER: YES!!!

ME: Okay.

AGENT: It should be something that's important to you--a mother's maiden name, a family name, a street name. Like, what's your mother's maiden name?

ME: *I cannot post this on the internet*

AGENT: *grimaces* No. Street name?

ME: *can't post real street here because this is the INTERNET*

AGENT: *shakes head* No. Other family names?

ME: Fitzgerald?

AGENT: Laura Fitzgerald. Huh. Wait. No. Well, take your TIME with it. It's not something to rush. It's JUST a suggestion. And in the mean time, maybe we can choose a new headshot together.

ME: *mutters something COMPLETELY stupid*

AGENT: So thanks for coming by! We look forward to working with you.

*I get up to leave, trip on the carpet and turn the WRONG way out of the office*

AGENT: No, this way dear.

ME: Oh. Right. Um. I appreciate all your suggestions, I could use all the help I can get.

AGENT: Oh honey, can't we all.

So...all that aside, I think it went REALLY well. DON'T YOU???

I'm throwing around the name change thing. On one hand, my NAME! My identity, people! Nothing is closer to you than a name. It represents everything about a person and it represents my father's family and HIM and I love my father but...

On the OTHER hand, my father's family is BATSHIT CRAZY. And of course, my last name is just a downright awful, awkward name. The Laura with it in particular makes it sink and sound flat. It doesn't have a "ring" to it. I've emailed and chatted with a few people and the opinions are broad and varied. Some of you are like DON'T CHANGE IT! YOU ARE SELLING YOUR SOUL! And other people are like, hey you know what? It kind of doesn't work for you. Go ahead and change it. My acting professor from college said it best: I need to be happy. Hands down. And also? It might not feel so weird if I think of it as a nickname of sorts.

So far, stage name suggestions have included the following:

Laura Dlugokencki (bringin' it back to my Polish roots)

Laura La Boom Boom

In an effort to not be too ethnic, Laura-Juan-Carlos Hernandez OR Laura Silverstein

Laura Lug because, according to Erica, the alliteration is great and it sounds almost like a "southern belle's name". Hmm. Which version of "Gone With The Wind" did SHE read?

flipping around the first name and last name so Laura becomes the LAST name instead of the first - courtesy of Brendan Bittner who suggested we then pronounce the last name Laura as Lau-RAA

Eddie. Eddie Montreal.

L Diddy/Destiny/Chastity

Laura DeLuv - courtesy of all the crazies at the Broadway Dance Center front desk

And finally, because short and sweet and non-ethnic is really the way to go:

Laura Chang

Feel free to leave your opinions/suggestions in the COMMENTS section because I opened it up and it is CRAZY AND WHACK YO. (Though if you use dirty language, like Tim, I'm gonna have to delete your post because my mom is CATHOLIC, people.)

In all seriousness, this is the toughest decision I've had to make in this business so far and I really need time to think it over. I do have some serious alternatives that I've been contemplating but I'm hesitant to share them with you guys just yet. If I DO decide to do this, I need to be happy with it and I need it to have MEANING. Because really, isn't that what life's all about? This is Laura La Boom Boom signing off! Peace.

BIG NEWS PEOPLE

Thanks to an anonymous commenter who showed me that with a few simple clicks I can enable the general public to leave comments, anyone can now comment on THE SPECTRUM regardless of belonging to bloggerdom.

I can't believe I've been sitting on this feature for two years or so complaining about it. Hmmmmm. I'm blonde. And Polish. Is anyone surprised? Comment away, suckers! Peace.

PS. If you DON'T all leave me a zillion comments now, you're going to reaffirm the fact that no one reads this. And that? Makes myself and the baby Jesus cry.