Andy's barely on his second cup of black tea, and I'm already back from my maiden sweep on scripted television. A gig that a friend graciously recommended me for, it involves me playing me. Easy enough. I wore my own dress (a tailored black Christian Dior), my own bangles (a dozen alligator skin bracelets and a few in brass) and even my own berry lip color.
That said, appearing on TV is not exactly on my to-do list: I'm a writer because I don't have to look slim and flawless or even preternaturally ageless. If I cannot make it one week to see the woman who waxes my brows or I over indulge the evening before on Andy's cooking, it's ok.
I can't complain, however, about this experience. Even rising at 4 a.m. for the car picking me up at 5 wasn't terribly savage to the system. Three hours later, through make-up, hair, a brief rehearsal and equally brief takes from every angle, it all proceeded very chill. The crew was absolutely lovely, and the lead couldn't be sweeter. The show debuts in a few months, and that's all I can say...
Comments