The Girl Who Learned To Kneel

My film class is interesting.

I really like its relaxed atmosphere, particularly after three years of theatre school in which we touted the mantra: “To be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late, to be late is to be fired!” Perhaps true in the context of theatre—but needlessly repeated! Threats get old.

Now, my friend from Toronto was a bit taken aback by the atmosphere of the class…the starting late, the students chatting while the teacher was giving comments, the eating (actually that was me, but I do try to keep the crumbs to a minimal…and I’m pregnant, so everything is excusable). Afterward she said, “I was offended for you, Bec.” No need to be appalled for my sake. The class suits me fine! See, I’m at a stage in my life where I want acting to be fun. I’m tired of teachers that try and scare the shit out of you…Alice doesn’t scare me. And when you’re not afraid, you can do really good work—work that’s free of self-consciousness and that little judging devil…you know the one! He sidles up to your insecurities and begins his trash talk.

But I digress.

Our teacher always brings horoscopes to class, which I have started to peruse. ‘Cause heck, I need to do something while she’s giving feedback to others! If you must know, I am a Virgo…with a twist. This was revealed when a classmate started talking about being Quentin Tarantino’s neighbor…which I admit, confused me. I thought we were a bunch of starving artists, united in our poverty and desire to make great art! You can’t be a starving artist AND be Quentin Tarantino’s neigbor.

So I queried:

“Like he’s your neighbor neighbor?”

“Yeah, he’s my neighbor.”

“Do you live in a house?”

“Yeah, a house off Mulholland.”

“A nice house?”

“Yeah, a nice house.”

“Do you talk to him on a regular basis?”

“Yeah.”

She was kind of annoyed by this point, but I was still puzzled. I was going to have to be much more direct. Pull out the straight talk.

“Wouldn’t Quentin Tarantino, um…be in a different economic strata? Do you have a lot of money?”

She seemed a bit taken aback by the boldness of my question. I guess it was a bit forward. But in that moment I was a sleuth, not a sensitive human being. She kind of half-mumbled something:

“I don’t have a lot of money, but…” Then she left. I think she had to go smoke some pot. Yeah, in the middle of class. Unacceptable.

Anyway, I found out her boyfriend is some dude from CSI, thus affording her the possibility of being Quentin Tarantino’s neighbor.

At this point another girl turned to me and said:

“Wow, that was so un-Virgo!”

“What? Being so nosy?”

“Yeah. Most Virgos would worry about seeming impolite.”

“Oh…I guess I’m not most Virgos. I just thought we were all starving artists here.”

Guy sitting in the front row pipes up:

“Um…no! Have you been to Kevin’s house?”

Right. An ex-Back Street Boy is also in the class. And I guess he lives well too!

Man, we are united by nothing. My starving artist haven exists only for me.

Okay, fine. I’m not actually starving.

But I still want to make great art AND I want acting to be fun.

So there!

Fine!

Good!

Goodbye!