"Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." James 4:14
Nothing about standing outside in Washington Heights, soaking wet with humility, made me feel like I have made strides in this business. No, flashing a prop camera as spring's beginning dropped huge snowflakes on my shoulders and Donny Wahlberg pushed me aside, stepping on my frozen toes did anything to reinforce my purpose or hone my creative craft.
But I would have to be selfishly missing the point to deny the fact that I all of it is a joke.
I did not spend hours on end, risking the wrath from my older brother for wearing his black Members Only jacket so I could conceivably play my favorite Pink Lady on Grease 2 for nothing.
It is the nights I spent in front of my dresser's mirror singing Hall and Oates hooks and practicing Pat Benatar's swagger so I could work my way full circle to moments like these.
Playing Michelle Pfeiffer's photo double in the reflection of a mirrored tray Zac Ephron's hand double is holding.
Can't you just feel the success?
In all seriousness, this is INDEED a victory.
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