Well, my beautiful, darling, (few) readers, here we are at the dawn of a new year and a new decade. (Technically, the decade begins in 2011 because there was no year zero. Well, super technically, time is relative. But 2010 is such a nice, round number, isn't it?) I am twenty-three years old, which means that over the course of the next ten years (if I survive) a lot of important shit is going to happen to me. Presumably, I will, at some point, "settle down", in an attempt to secure some sort of "stability". Perhaps I might want to get "married" or even have "children". I might even procure a "real job" with, dare I say, "health benefits".
Or not.
For, while many of my peers are finishing up their graduate degrees or making a dent in their respective career paths, (preparing to enter a "real world" that, I hear, is even realer than the post-college real world) or getting engaged or enrolling in various forms of civil service, yours truly continues to float around randomly like that symbolic feather in the opening credits of Forest Gump. "Why?" I pretend to hear you ask. Because I have made the astoundingly stupid decision to attempt a life as a professional actor. A professional actor... who does not have her Equity Card.
A few of you might be wondering why that cheap little piece of laminated construction paper makes such a big difference. What does it mean to be a non-equity actor? It means many things, the most obvious being that I am not a member of Actors Equity Association. Some of the less obvious things include being ineligible for contracts that include a rather generous minimum salary/periodic rehearsal breaks and ::drumroll:: Health Insurance! It also means that Equity audition monitors will not even consider seeing me until all members with a time slot, members on the weight-list and "equity eligible" actors have had their 16 bars of fame. Subsequently I am seldom, if ever, seen at big auditions. This is a pity... as I am awesome. Hey, it's a tough gig. But I can deal with it. I'm a tough broad.
Here's my real beef with being a non-equity actor: I am not allowed to sit in the Equity Lounge. I do not know what the Equity Lounge looks like. I can only assume that the walls are lined with genuine pieces of French Impressionist art, foot massages are available upon request and the water fountains run with mimosas. I am made to sit on rickety benches in the hallway, donning my Bare Minerals and ironing my hair under horrendous florescent lights. No one looks good in that hallway. ALSO ALSO I am not allowed to use the Equity Bathroom. I have to go out in the cold/heat/grime and use the bathroom in the Burger King around the corner.
Ten years from now, when I'm writing my "Faves of the Decade" blog, frequently citing quotes from President GaGa, I very well might still be a hostess at a wine bar on the Upper East side. Without an Equity Card. So why? Why not spend the next ten years going to law school and investing my savings and peopling Long Island with my progeny? Sure, I have great bone structure that should be passed on. My only answer is a pretty meager one... I think it might be worth the risk. To quote a fellow non-equity actor who borrowed my hair iron to touch up his side-bang, "Oh my God, Liz. This is such a fucking stupid thing to want to do with your life. I'm so miserable. It's so much fun."
