Enforced Secret Joy #9 – Audrey Zombie

Audrey Zombie has been my constant companion for most of Act One this month. She’s the screen saver on my classmate’s Emery’s laptop. She looks fine in her Breakfast At Tiffany’s attire if you look at her straight on, but this is the angle I saw her much of the time, so Audrey Zombie she is.

Yes, I sat in the front row for much of the month. Not because I’m a brown noser, but simply to keep at bay the distractions that watching other classmates might have posed. But Audrey, fair Audrey. Fair dead eyed constrasty toned Audrey. Look at the smirk on her. Is it because she knows my pain? Or is it because she’s LAUGHING at my pain? Um, she’s a screensaver. She doesn’t give a shit. Right.
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Dear Act One Classmates who I have just spent the majority of a month with:

I write this as an apology and a plea for forgiveness. I have misjudged you all horribly. Initially, your bright eyed Newbieness made me feel very grouchy and grumpy, since I am a L.A. cynic at the tender age of seven. But it quickly became endearing to hear your tales of how L.A. traffic scares you, how some of you don’t understand the concept of sushi, how some of you went to Universal Studios and it was COOL, (previous personal experience makes me blanch at the word “Citywalk.”)

You all have lives, a lot of you have spouses, families, or serious significant others. I never would’ve guessed that so many of you have had Running From The Cops stories in your past. It’s pretty awesome.

You all are wonderful people, much more Holy and in connection with the Holy Spirit than I am. I even unintentionally insulted one of you by insisting that “Nothing in the Old Testament counts once Jesus showed up!” when in fact, you had just completed a Masters of Arts in Old Testament from a theological seminary. Oopsie. Sorry about that.

But I ask your collective forgiveness. The “I’m just here to learn and connect my spirituality with my craft!” routine was a front and God knew it. God knew that I secretly quietly, internally and loftily considered myself above all of you writing skill wise. Though I tried mightily not to lord that knowledge over you, God knew it was there, and proceeded to kick the snot out of me because of it.

Because you all CAN write. Better than me. I can say that without a hint of jealousy (okay, maybe a drop. Maybe two.) Your pitches were chosen over mine, your homework was exalted over mine, your loglines were better than mine. I thought I was great, I realize that I’m not.

Now we’re leaving the program. I came in secretly lofty, I’m leaving crawling and humbled. I’m not better than than you. I’m in the exact same position – I don’t have a job, I question whether my writing skills are good enough, I question what the next step is, I wonder what the hell God’s plan for me is anyway. Nothing is clear. Except that I’m not alone, because I’ve spent a month with all of you. It’s been fun. Except for God kicking the snot of me part. I could’ve done without that.

Thank you God, for my Act One classmates. Thank you for their talent, for their generosity, for their gracious spirits. Thank you for their Bright Eyed Newbieness, which is a much better place to be than my Crusty Corrodedness. Please shower blessings and gifts and opportunities untold upon them in the form of jobs, places to live, and scripts that will sell for bucketfuls of money. Please show them how awesome spicy tuna sushi is. Show them what the next step is after Act One, and please let them see what Your plan is for them. Let us all keep in touch. And…okay, fine, thank you for kicking the snot out of me. Please keep it up, I love it, I can’t get enough.

And thank you for Audrey Zombie. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Amen.

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Faithful Readers O’ the Blog, I am dead to the world for the weekend. Sunday’s post will be late on Monday. Thanks for checking in.