Giving (up)

Even after two and a half years of living here I still feel very British and it’s hard to immerse myself fully in the 'touchy feely, let's talk about our emotions all of the time and live outside our comfort zone' LaLa lifestyle. Some would say that being open to all of this will make me a better actor (/person?)  I know that those of you who know me well are laughing at the fact that there actually may be times when I don’t talk about how I’m feeling (the Scot is screaming ‘Please, no more than you do already!') but maybe there is something in this. 

I recently took part in a challenge at my acting studio thinking it would be a good opportunity to help me with this. It involved doing all of these things on a daily basis for ten days - meditating, writing, giving, artistic expression and mindful movement.

This is what I learned;

I can’t quieten my brain. I’m not sure if I (or you) should be surprised by this. Saying you don’t like meditating in LA is a bit like saying you don’t like dogs. I’ve tried really hard (well not so much with the dogs). It’s amazing how even when chanting a silent mantra in your head in a dark quiet room, whilst breathing deeply and focussing on a light in your mind that there’s still room for other things such as Christmas lists, what I’m having for lunch/tea/breakfast tomorrow and how rubbish I am at meditating and how maybe this isn’t even meditating it’s just thinking about things with your eyes closed. Oh and apparently you’re not supposed to do it of a night in bed and think that’s so much easier - that’s just called sleep.

The writing bit is ok. The writing comes from the meditating though so it's no good me writing down all of the things I was ‘meditating’ about (see above) but I’m good at writing down all of the things I was supposed to be meditating about. 

Day 1 of ‘Giving' surprised me. We had some delicious muffins left over in work so I decided it would be a good thing to give them away to homeless people on the way home. Not so easy. When the homeless person I see every day at the traffic lights wasn’t there I realised that it wasn’t going to be as easy as winding down my car window and passing the muffins out. I would have to work a bit harder and rightly so. I didn’t really fancy walking around the worst parts of LA at night to complete this mission so I drove to a familiar place not far from home. I decided to start with one homeless lady who I know sleeps on a bench there. She was already settled down in her sleeping bag for the night so I gave her a muffin, explaining what it was and kind of leaving it balanced on her chest. She doesn’t really talk and she just sniffed the paper bag but I took the fact that she didn’t throw it at me as a good sign. One down, three to go. I went back to where my car was and saw a woman looking through the bins in the car park so I got into my car and drove around and asked her if she was interested in a muffin/cake (I think that’s what I actually said, sometimes I forget what’s English and what’s American so I go with both) She said ‘What?’ So I said ‘Would you like a muffin?” (I was sure that was American) ‘No!’ she said. She seemed really offended so I left her rooting through the bins Maybe she thought I was trying to poison her. I had to go to the supermarket so I wondered if I came out of there with them in a bag then people might think they were freshly bought rather than pre bought and poisoned (I gave this a good go didn’t I?) so when I came out of Ralphs there was a man in a wheelchair, again having a look through the bins. As a side note you have to choose your homeless people really carefully and by that I mean make sure they are homeless. I bought a man sat outside CVS a Snickers once and to this day the Scot swears he wasn’t homeless which is why he didn’t seem too impressed! Anyway I asked my wheelchair man if he would like a muffin/cake and he asked was it sweet. I said ‘Yes it’s a muffin, you know like a cake' and he said ‘No thanks, I can’t eat sweet things.' I gave up, went home and gave them to the Scot who was very happy and appreciative and I guess knows me well enough to know that I’m not trying to kill him in the process through poison, diabetes or just plain insensitivity!

The artistic expression and mindful movement were a little easier. I’ve opened myself up to a world of podcasts and TED Talks instead of binge watching ‘Parenthood’ on Netflix and any kind of extra movement is obviously a good thing. I completed the challenge and I’m still trying to do some of these things every day. This week I’m going to see if I can volunteer at the Police Activities League. I’m not even really sure what that is but I’m definitely living outside my comfort zone. Has it improved my acting? Well on some days I think I did pretty well at trying to be someone I’m not!

Let me tell you the story of a poor girl......

It’s been a little week of Liverpool heaven for me. LFC are doing their pre-season tour here so I was lucky enough to go to a Legends night in Hollywood which was a Q&A with Fowler, Rush, McAllister & Garcia followed by a Beatles Tribute band. I’m not sure many of the crowd would have understood a word Robbie or Gary Mac said and Paul McCartney was quite possibly Luis Suarez in a wig but I had a great time. It was a warm up to the game on Wednesday night where we played Chelsea in the International Champions Cup. 

Going to the match is of course one of the things I miss and with the time difference I feel a little out of touch sometimes so I was very excited to go. Playing Chelsea was also a good thing as I thought it would be like going to a game back home. Hahahahahahaha.

I bought my ticket on Groupon ($39)

My ticket said 8pm kick off but Liverpool’s website said 835pm. I called to ask and they said ‘Opening Ceremonies’ would be at 8pm with the kick off half an hour later. ‘Wow’ I thought, ‘It’s going to be like the Olympics!’

I won’t bore you with LA traffic stories but it took me two hours to drive the 25 miles to the stadium. I knew this would happen so I was still in time for ‘Opening Ceremonies’. 

I arrived at the stadium and thought maybe I had arrived at Disney, Universal or maybe even Jurassic Park. I even looked for the monorail! I don’t know if it was the 27 degree temperature, the mist spraying the crowd, the smell from the popcorn / kettle-corn / pizza / pretzel / burger / hotdog / corndog stands or the constant loudspeaker announcements welcoming the crowd to the ‘soccer arena’. It might even have been the heat and the smell from the not too far away Santa Clarita wildfire but Anfield this was not!

Still, I was excited to be there. They said there was no Liverpool end. Imagine my surprise when I saw that all of the Liverpool fans somehow knew to sit one end and all of the Chelsea fans the other! Any guesses where me and my Groupon were sat? 

I still stood and sang ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ (somehow doing that in the middle of a crowd of American Chelsea fans is a lot less threatening than say Stamford Bridge!) I was still standing when they announced the National Anthem. ‘Wow' I thought (again!) ‘Look at us Brits being patriotic abroad!’ as everyone put their hands on their hearts and turned to the American Flag. Luckily the 1923 Flag Code 'leaves out a punishment for violating its requirements, so there are no legal consequences for those who break its rules’!!

Ok so that was the ‘Opening Ceremonies’ over with (!!!!) On to the game. 

The highlights (clearly this is not a match report) were the many ‘yellow card cautions’, my favorite being when the announcer (they love an announcement apparently!) attributed one to the wrong player and then had to apologise and it probably wasn’t much fun for Fabregas having his ‘red card ejection’ announced to the crowd. 

If there were any dull moments then the crowd could wave down one of the many people selling all of the aforementioned snacks and have them come to their seat. Oh and there was candy floss as well!

As you can probably imagine everything is sponsored. The attendance announcement was sponsored and the half time ads consisted of names of companies popping up on the screen and a voiceover just saying the name. Very weird. Somebody literally just said ‘Groupon, Geico, McDonalds, Gatorade’ etc over and over again. They should bring George Sephton next time and his top ten from County Rd.

I couldn’t tell you who the man of the match was but they made sure that we knew who the 'Uber driver of the match’ was and very glamorous she looked too!

So that was it. My first experience of the footy in the US. I’m not sure I’ll be rushing out to watch Galaxy any time soon. I think I would rather stick with my memories of watching football in the freezing rain, with the over priced pies that you have to get yourself and the hilarious commentary from the crowd around you who call it football and know that Liverpool rhymes with shiverpool and not driverpool. 

Despite how crazy it all was I did I love watching the team play and I’m definitely glad I went. To quote Stevie himself itself 'It’s strange really. Being so far away and then your club rolls into town!’

That was kind of awesome!

Cheers

The Scot and I do a lot of things that aren’t very ‘LA’ (mainly to do with food and drink I have to say!) So I decided it was time to try something a bit more LA and maybe counteract some of that behaviour. At the bar. A different kind of (not at all happy hour) bar. I saw a deal on Facebook. $100 for a month’s unlimited membership at The Bar Method. ‘Wow that’s cheap’ I thought. I’ve clearly been here too long. My membership at Lifestyles was £15 ($22) a month! 

So what do I get to do with this bargain of a membership? I get to inflict intense pain on myself for an hour mainly. For anyone old enough to remember Callanetics it’s a bit like that. Tiny exercises that look like they don’t take much effort but make you want to scream in agony. There’s a ballet bar and various other bits and bobs designed to increase your strength & flexibility (aka intensify the torture). 

I guess you get what you pay for. Remember the gym with the cockroaches, the fancy dress costumes and the naked pensioners? Its not like that! You’re not even allowed to show your toes (honestly there’s a sign up saying socks must cover toes. Who knew there were socks that didn’t?!) The instructors and members were all dancers in another life, or maybe actually this one. My favorite exercise is where you’re supposed to put your hands on your hips and float your leg into the air and onto the bar. Ha! I need both hands to haul my leg onto the bar. There are stall bars to hang from which are a bit like a ladder attached to the wall and you hang from the top rung. I managed three seconds at my first attempt. 

The instructors are all really nice and they know everyone's name They even say my name right! 'Isn't that nice', I thought. Then I realized that's so they can correct you by name on their microphone. They use my name a lot!  

It is actually quite addictive though despite the pain and the extra wrinkles from the amount of frowning I do for a whole hour four or five times a week. It's probably not a coincidence that there's a chiropractor one side and you can get your botox the other. Now this is LA! 

Phat Chance!

So I'm back from the Christmas break with a bang and facing the harsh reality that is LA. It's been a tough week. Actually it was just one day. The morning saw me getting dumped by my manager and the evening saw me getting called fat by a six year old. I don't think the two were related (and I was way more upset with the six year old!)

I happened to be on FaceTime with my sister when she saw a live feed of Hollywood at its most ruthless. Me - 'Ooh hang on one sec my manager is calling, it will be quick as I have a meeting with them in two hours about our plan of attack for Pilot season.' It turns out their plan of attack was a bit different to mine. 'Don't bother coming in as we've signed another British actress so we won't be renewing your contract in March, in fact we are letting you go now so you can get another manager in time for pilot season.' How nice of them. It's pilot season now. Maybe they meant in time for next year. The problem apparently wasn't me not booking jobs but them not getting me any auditions. Is it bad my first thought was I'm glad I didn't drive all the way down there and pay for parking? 

Thankfully I didn't have an audience for the next terrible part of my day. It was just me and the six year old. Him (whilst laughing hysterically) - 'Are you a fat lady?' Me - 'I can't understand you while you're laughing so much.' Him - 'Are you a fat lady' Me - 'I don't know what you're saying.' Him - 'I'll write it down for you - ARE YOU FAT?' Me - 'Go and put your pjs on this minute I don't know why you're being so mean to me, I'm not you're friend any more.' Him - 'I never said you are fat, I just asked if you are.' Me - ' Go to your room!' In hindsight a better response would have been 'Only in LA!' Maybe he meant 'phat' (pretty hot and tempting apparently) and on second thoughts maybe a bit worrying from a six year old! 

I told the Scot. His response? 'Oh don't worry he's six and probably just doesn't know about breasts.' Firstly he used the word breasts and secondly what on earth!!!??? 

So yes I'm back and it might be 20 degrees outside but part of me wishes I was still in my onesie in front of the fire eating chocolates off the tree. Although maybe that's what got me into this mess in the first place!