Thursday, December 10, 2009

Does anyone offer teach Laura how to be sexy classes?


Last night I was cock-tailing for the AOL holiday party at the New York Stock Exchange. The front door had long, red carpets for the celebrities to walk down, and the line of paparazzi taking pictures. When it came seven o'clock, the camera lights illuminated the whole front entrance, as each important face walked through the door. I made sure to pass out drinks towards the entrance, in order to snag some eye contact and potential conversation with the elite of NYC.

My first victim was Brendan Fraser, asking me if that was water, and me telling him it was vodka. I knew what he really meant, " Can I take you on a date and make you famous?" I responded with my independent eyes, " No Mr. Fraser, I can't just use you for your money and fame, I want to be poor and I like having nobody know who I am." Actually, I am lying, our eyes were having so many conversations, I couldn't keep up. I hate when my eyes speak faster than my lips.

Then, I see these gorgeous pair of teeth walk towards me. They are white, glistening from the lights. I am suddenly blinded by the gorgeous pearly whites, but I still manage to offer them a cocktail. He says no thank you, and it is then and there, that I realize that this man is winking at me. It was a full of confidence wink. And this confident winker is P.Diddy formerly known as Puff Daddy. I tell him that his speech that he just made was beautiful, but I don't think he heard the last part of the sentence. It's hard to hear when you are walking away.

I tell the gentleman beside me, P.Diddy doesn't listen to me the way he use to. I think the gentlemen beside is also hired staff, and they will laugh at my wittiness, but no. No they are not hired staff, and no they were confused by my statement. I try and explain that I don't really know P.Diddy, etc, but the thing about a joke is if you have to explain it gets more and more painful. But, our conversation is luckily saved by an interruption by P.Diddy.

Turns out, I am talking to Jace the Great, which is a member of Bill Cosby's new rap group. He starts telling me how hard it is for an artist, I start telling him my sob story about not becoming famous in the five months I’ve been in NYC. He tells me, " There were days when I didn't think my life was going anywhere, but I would still rap. If you want to act, you have to make it an everyday thing, and ALWAYS do it. Don't stop doing it." He then told me, if I ever needed any advice to feel free to talk to him. I went on to tell him, if he ever wanted to turn my story into a rap song, just let me know.

However, I don't know if he wanted me to send mind messages to him or what. He didn't give me his contact information. But, regardless, Jace the Great, enjoyed my company and wished me the best of luck.

I ended the night feeling rather envious of the rich and famous. Dreaming of the day I would walk down the aisle of cameras, giving young people hope.

Suddenly, my daydream is interrupted by the vibration of my phone. It is the Executive Producer I've been working for. He asks me if I'd like to audition for the sexy vamp spokesmodel for Fuse TV. I tell him I can fit him in tomorrow at 11...he tells me to really "vamp it up"....

I wear my best lady gaga outfit, and prance on in there. I listen to hard core rap, to really get in touch with my sexy side. I walk into this room that is all white, and they tell me to walk with music and look side to side. I feel goofy, finding myself wanting to go into my 14 year old self, that makes it into a joke. But, I try and focus. I act like a tiger searching for prey. Perhaps, my catwalk was too much. I'll try again, now I'm like a flamingo resting in a pond, hopping down the aisle. Again, maybe this isn't sexy. I'm running out of animals, time and inspiration. I produce the last thing I have left to produce, a wolf lurking in a dark forest. Every man is driven crazy with desire when it comes to the wolf walk. When I get done, the casting director says to me, " Ok, that was good, now let's try to do it with confidence." Telling someone to do something with confidence is the equivalent of telling someone to not smell something because it stinks. Inevitably that person will be like, eww let me smell. And, nobody has ever in their life looked at a wolf and been like that's an insecure wolf. So, either I wasn't the wolf I imagined, or she's lying. I decide to just drop the wolf choice, and return to tiger in a cage. Before leaving, I pick up my pride that I accidently dropped on the floor.


I call my cheerleader, aka mom, and she tells me, " This seems to be coming up a lot, do you think you could find some classes that teach sexy."

Interesting. Very Interesting. I am now going to pay someone to teach me how to be sexy, and I am wondering if this is insulting or if it is like piano lessons. I was going to call my "friend" and ask him about my sexiness, but really someone can't know your ability unless you show them. He thinks I'm sexy when I'm reading a book, but I don't think I could bring a book on set.

Plus, nobody can know who you are or what you are capable of, only you know that. So, really we just look to other people's opinions to tell us what we already know about ourselves. Because we want affirmation in what we believe to already be true.

I had a spiritual mentor tell me one time how important fellowship is within a church. It is important to pray and have your intimate individual relationship with God, but it is also important to surround yourself with people that have the same beliefs as your own. I think this is true not only with your relationship to God, but with your relationship with yourself. It's important to have people that believe and see yourself as you see yourself.


Moral of the story: I'm looking for people to tell me I'm sexy.

1 comment:

  1. You are so ridiculous! I love you!!
    "Sexy" is an illusion and is relative... and you can't "be sexy", silly girl.

    Pick your favorite part of your body and emphasize it... then cross your fingers :)

    ReplyDelete