Tooting My Own Horn

Let me tell you one thing...

I am really fucking good at what I do.

I had a demo class this evening for prospective acting students and I am fucking brilliant. Pearls of wisdom projectile vomitted from my mouth. It was dangerous in there. People had to duck because if my brilliance hit them head on- they'd so turn to stone.

Unfortunately, not enough people showed up to fill my quota for my May classes so we'll have to go to plan B. But the people that DID show- they are so hard core with me and they are now out recruiting for me. Why? Because I am really, insanely good at this.

A few of my friends want me to become a therapist (mostly because I do a heck of a lot of talking people off ledges, both literal and figurative) but they have never seen me do THIS. I remember my first day being eyed by an acting teacher who actually worked in the Group Theater (where most of the last century's great theatrical thinkers got their start) and being amazed that she could see straight into my soul and deduce things about my past based on a tiny finger twitch here or a "dumped" exhale there. I was blown away by her ability to literally read me like a freaking book. Tonight, I carried her torch. I was spot on. I called it and there was progress made in just one short hour. Get this...I actually know something. I actually know what I am talking about and it works and I am not just spouting theoretical bullshit. I whoop ass at this.

OWWWW!

Sorry, just broke my arm patting myself on the back.

Screw it, I'm going to savor this one.