Top 10 ways to know you're not famous YET

1) You get an audition for the next Cameron Crowe movie, but find out it's to play a 35 yr old Mother role. Turns out your agent confused you with another girl by the last name: ROSE

2) You have a callback for a music video. The casting director doesn't remember you and reintroduces himself. Maybe it was a mistake-callback?

3) A fellow 'up and coming' actor gives you career advice to 'get drunk more.' You listen.

4) You have no idea how to turn on your heat, so you start taking two hot showers a day to stay warm.

5) The only person who asked for your autograph today was the cashier at the grocery store.

6) You have worn the same pair of jeans at least 3 days in a row.

7) You 'will work for food.'

8) Your phone was turned off for the 3rd time this year.

9) You think about following your Mother's advice to wash your face with sugar and put toothpaste on your break-outs so you don't have to buy face wash. Instead you listen to your yogi friend and just put tea tree oil all over your face.

10) You know you should go running to get in shape, but instead you write this. Or you do both. You haven't decided yet. Go running, you lazy dork!

*Bonus*
11) You wear really, REALLY big sunglasses to try and LOOK famous-ER

Laughing out Loud in...

WhimsiCali4nia

The MoCCA

Went to the MoCCA today in character.

These were my character's favorite paintings.

They speak for themselves. I like things that speak for themselves.

I've never painted in my life. But my character does.

So we have to learn...

Studying lines for my shoot tomorrow, 'cause I'm a working actress and all.

Hope everyone's recovered from the day of too much food and sleep. Holidays are not for me. I'm a loner/workaholic. I enjoy life most when I'm working.

Back to work in...

WhimsiCali4nia

A Thanksgiving Poem

I am thankful for the house my parents bought with the yellow shutters.

The screened in porch. The backyard.

My Mother's violin playing echoing through the walls up the stairs to my morning glory-decorated wallpapered bedroom.

The basement with the secret hiding places and later a ping-pong table.

The den with my father's 'blue chair' he sat in drinking his coffee and reading the Sunday paper.

My sister's bed she let me climb into when I was scared of sleeping alone.

The piano.

The love my parents gave me. The lessons my sister taught me. The boredom I experienced as a teenager anxious to learn about the world. The world outside of the house with the yellow shutters and the screened in porch and the violin playing. The piano.

I am thankful for the front door. And the opening of it. The walking outside into the fresh New England air. On my own. Walking out and seeing who I might become.

I am thankful for my becoming. An adult. A woman. An Explorer.

I am thankful for the oceans. The Atlantic and the Pacific. And the fact that I have dipped my feet in both and laughed in the midst of both.

And the violin playing in the back of my head with the love of my parents in my heart and in my toes.

The salt water cleaning the bottoms of my feet.

I am thankful.

Thanks, Dad

I was thinking about Thanksgiving...since it's tomorrow and everything. And I was thinking about how someone just told me that my blog was a bit 'woe-is-me-ish' and I can see his point. I have a lot to be grateful for. And I am. I was thinking about all of those things: all of the wonderful people in my life, all that is actually going for me, how far I've come, all of the things that HAVE worked out in my life. And I do feel very, very grateful. I have my health. I have a roof over my head and all. I have a good family-far away and scattered as they are. We love each other. And they are very supportive.

I thought about my Grandfather who passed away this year, who was always grateful for everything in nature and for his family, and for all the little day to day things. He was a living example of gratitude. I could feel how grateful he was to have me at his bedside in his last days. And I am so grateful I was there to share with him his last moments. I am grateful to have known him, to have been blessed with hundreds of his hugs, his glowing smile.

And then I thought about MY Dad, and how grateful I am for him. And I found this picture and it made me smile to see how grateful little Erica was for him too.




Fighting a disease as long as I've 'known' him (Multiple Sclerosis, or as I called it as a kid, 'Multiple Ferocious'), he never brought it up, still never brings it up. He's gone from walking to walking with crutches, to leaning on my ten-yr.-old head for support, to being in a wheelchair, to not being able to transfer from wheelchair to chair, to moving downstairs, etc. No complaining, no woe-is-me-ing coming from him. Always cracking jokes about being a 'good for nothing crip.' Making light of hospital visits,etc. He is someone who is grateful for his family, music, whatever god-awful thing my Mom tries to cook him, for my Mom "Look how lucky I am to have ended up with such a pretty lady," for books, scrabble, chess, movies, etc.

He's not the typical Dad. He never put me on top of his shoulders, or spun me around, or kicked around a soccer ball with me. But he taught me to say, "We're just a couple-a-coool cats....(*snap*) yeeeaaaah...." making me practice it over and over until I got his approval. He taught me how to play chess and never belittled me enough to let me beat him (still haven't), he taught me that "Boys are bad" (I should have listened...), and he most of all, taught me to laugh at myself, laugh at life, laugh at any situation.



He's also given me the freedom to be myself, to do what I want with my life.

I remember when I was about 6 I said, "I am going to stay up ALL night." And he said, "OK." And I said, "Reeaaaallly?!" And he said, "Sure." And I fell asleep on the floor by his feet.

When I was about ten, it was snowing in Boston (at least 6 inches of snow) and I refused to put on my boots, because I thought they were ugly and he said, "OK...then go barefoot." And I said, "FINE. I WILL." And he said, "OK then." And I walked home in 6 inches of snow completely barefoot. Ouch.

When I was 18 I told my parents I was going to drop out of Boston University and move to NYC with my boyfriend at the time. And my Dad told my Mom to let me. 3 years later I said I was going to LA and my Dad said, "Sounds like a good idea."

Thanks Dad for letting me do what I want.

Happy Thanksgiving in...

WhimsiCali4nia

WimpsiCali4nia

Today I feel like a wimp.

Sometimes I feel like a big shot-all cool and tough, capable of taking on the world.
Not today. Today I feel like a plain old good-for-nothing wimp.

I felt really cool in the morning. I had to go to court to settle a ticket issue. And because I'm such an 'actress' my director had to call me to make me get up in the morning and 'deal with it,' which I wouldn't have done without his 'direction.'

I went in expecting to pay $500. And instead they let me off with a court date (will someone please remind me-it's in July) and a $10 to get my license taken off hold.

I left feeling pretty darn good about myself, like I had gotten away with robbing a bank. I even made friends with an adorable couple who loved me because I was an example of someone 'EVEN WORSE' than the wife at dealing with responsibilities. Hey, it's not always a bad thing to be incompetent, as long as you can laugh at yourself about it. People love when you can make a big joke of yourself. Trust me.

Anyway, I left the court house well before noon, glowing with pride. And as I pulled out of my parking spot...@#$!@#%CRASH!!!!Q#W%#@$%@#$% I banged into one of those darn poles they use to separate the parking spots and to ruin my day.

With my tail between my legs, I drove to my mechanic. Again, not a HUGE deal. But definitely not a stellar moment. They are ordering new lights for me, but who knows how much that will cost to replace....still no real harm done, thanks to my luck. Actually, I do think about how lucky I am every day to just be alive with all limbs in tact (knock hard on wood). I moved to LA without ever having driven further than my high school in MA. I never drove in NYC. And my Mom never really encouraged me to drive in Boston. So, I barely knew how to make a left turn. I used to call my friend at intersections, when I first got here, to verify whether or not I had the right of way. And if I accidentally ended up on the highway all hell broke loose and I would basically have a nervous breakdown until I found my way off of it. So, I have come a long way...but still...

Anyway, I managed to make it to my rehearsal for the experimental film I am working on, which I really am enjoying. But the character I am delving into is a real dark, brooding, psycho. And it's not an easy place to go to. Usually takes some time to break out of afterwards. But I do enjoy playing her. But she pushes me to the dark corners of my mind...not always a good thing.

Then I saw a short film I worked on a year ago, and I was ready to pack my bags, shave my head, and move to a mountain somewhere...yes I can be extreme. No offense to anyone involved, because I am speaking strictly about myself. Watching myself made me feel sick to my stomach. I literally felt like my face is deformed. I am old, ugly, fat, and overrall disgusting to look at, and have no business pursuing anything where my face will be visible to anyone at all. OK...this may sound dramatic. And now is where all my friends/family tell me how beautiful I am and how I'm crazy, etc. etc. But the problem here is not whether or not I am ugly or whether or not I know what I look like or not. The problem is how much IMPORTANCE I am placing on it. Rather than thinking, "OK, so I didn't look great, but so what," I literally think, "Who am I fooling? Who would want to look at me?! How will I ever get cast looking like THAT?!" I realize these thoughts are skewed, superficial,self-sabotaging, and self-absorbed, and yet I can't help/change them.

This business is very much about the way you look. Even if you are hoping to be cast as the 'nerdy, librarian' you go into a room full of gorgeous, perfectly presentable, young girls. Maybe they have fake glasses on. But besides that, they are perfectly manicured, ironed, polished, etc.

Giving up the idea of a 'day job' and stubbornly living off of the acting alone, I have no money in my budget left for primping and polishing. I am lucky if I can find a clean pair of underwear these days.

I had three auditions yesterday and not a single callback. And I felt good about two of them. They gave me direction, spent time with me. One director said, "You obviously have the acting chops." Another Casting director said, "I remember auditioning you a year ago and I think you're ADORABLE." And she had me read for both parts saying I took the direction very well. But nothing. I start wondering what's wrong with me. Is it my hair? My stomach? My skin? I have the acting chops, so it must be the other factor-THE WAY I LOOK. Which is never good enough and never will be good enough.

I am a strong person. But this is a hard path. And people don't realize how many factors are really involved when they say it will be hard. And it's not just a day or a month...I am starting to realize it is years of challenges. Year after year. And that is why so many people can't take it.

My only problem is when I think about quitting I literally can't even imagine what else I would do. I can't see turning back. I've always been stubborn. I don't give up easily. Hence why I was seeing a sociopath for almost 2 years when I first moved here. (Another, way too long story...)

I guess the point is...I can't quit, because I don't really believe in it. And there must be something I love in all of this more than looking in the mirror and admiring my beautiful jaw line. I think I have something to give besides all that. And I guess that's why I'll show up to an audition in old jeans and a t-shirt with a car that is barely still moving, with a license that's on hold. And I will risk being criticized and even arrested, because there's something I love more than all that. What it is...I'm not sure. But it's there somewhere.

Gotta go digging.

Sweet dreams in

WhimsiCali4nia

Mike Leigh Hookie

So I had rehearsal today for the experimental film I've been working on with Marco Capalbo. And I arrived at his house a bit scattered, dealing with my car issues, and my run ins with 'the law.' And Marco questioned whether I was in a place to 'be Liz' today. (My character I have been developing for almost a year now). The rest is *hush*hush*...

And so Marco thought perhaps it would be a good day-due to weather and my state of mind for all of us, me, the other actor, Eric, and Marco to play hookie today. He made us a pot of tea, and thought we should 'think about it'...

This is what happens when 3 rebel/anarchists work together on making a film. And rebels we three definitely are.

We sat, mauled it over for a bit. Sipped some tea. Well, Eric doesn't drink tea. But Marco and I drink heavily (tea, that is). And Marco decided that we should determine whether to work or play hookie based on our 'I-Ching' reading. So he pulled out the sticks and proceeded to do our reading. Well, the result had something to do with 'Not going outside the door.' So we took that has a pretty obvious sign to stay in and watch movies. Marco cut up some pears and cheese for us. We got cozy on the couch, with blankets, tea, etc. And we settled in for a Mike Leigh film: 'Secrets and Lies' which I had never seen, but is absolutely fantastic.

Afterwards we had dinner and discussed Hollywood. The constant debate about business vs. art. And how to stay inspired while making a living. A constant battle, no doubt.

This film has been one of the most exciting projects I've worked on ever. Mostly because I never know what to expect. Will I be going on a wild adventure in character that day, or will I be watching a Mike Leigh film over tea and pears.

And this is what we love about the theater and life. The unexpected. And if we as actors don't know what we are going to do next, how equally exciting for our audience. For all we know, Marco was taping the whole thing...that's how 'in the dark' he is keeping his actors. And I love it. Without the dark, I can't strive to find the light.

Sweet dreams in...

WhimsiCali4nia

Randy Rhodes' daughter

I went to the LA music awards tonight, and my friend who invited me thought it would be best if he introduced me as Erica Rhodes, 'Randy Rhodes' daughter.'

I met the drummer from Black Sabbath, and he seemed really impressed and said in a rather touching way, "I knew your dad...yeah...we used to play together...wow...that's cool..." I smiled and acted genuinely touched by this. Though I thought it would have been funny if I had said, "Really? I didn't!"

Anyway, red carpet events are bizarre. You can pretty much say you're anyone and with anyone and wearing anyone and doing anything you want. No one really cares, becuase they're more caught up in what you think of THEM, anyway. So the whole thing is a bit of a hoax.

It's all just make believe...

Sweet dreams in...

WhimsiCali4nia