I can hear the clock ticking: tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. It’s rhythmic pulsing determinedly ticks away into forever, but no one seems to notice. People continue about their business, handing over coupons at Trader Joe’s and rushing off somewhere oh-so-very important. Others admire the Liliana Casanova Madeleine silk nightgown at the French lingerie boutique. I rush off to…a red light, and I can’t help but wonder, “Is anyone else aware of this clock?”
A reader has asked me to write about my clock. I’m assuming he means my internal clock and not the one at the Thai massage place that I remove the battery from so as to not annoy me while getting a massage. I wonder if others also remove this battery.
So here I am. I live in the Valley. I’m in my late twenties. I spend my days writing and showing up at Dunkin’ Donuts, movie and TV show auditions. I am not married, and have no children.
I sometimes fantasize of myself at thirty-five and what it’ll look like ‘cuz I have it down cold. My successful, hard working husband returns home from a hard day, and I’m standing in the kitchen with a polka dot apron wrapped around my waist (I know, so fifties of me). I’m pouring red wine into the beef bourguignon stew I’m preparing for dinner. Earlier that afternoon, I finished a chapter in my latest book and just got off the phone with my agent about a movie deal. I’m being offered a role to play a French mental patient, and finally…the babies are napping.
Far fetched? Realistic? A little of both?
I’ve come up with a plan. Thirty. I’ve decided that if, by the age of thirty, I’ve not progressed in my career, I will make a change. That still gives me several years left to hit the Hollywood pavement hard out here and keep trying. I think thirty is a pretty good age to do some life checking-in/reassessing. So until that day comes, I’ll be driving down Lankershim Boulevard en route to an audition listening to the tick-tock, tick-tick of my own clock.
I have to admit how strange it feels to check up on old high school friends on Facebook and find out mostly everyone’s married, with the 2.5 kids, and the modest house with the golden retriever and none of them are even thirty yet! Choosing to chase an acting dream doesn’t put me in the same category as mostly everyone I grew up with, and that’s OK. I may not have the booming career today or the husband or children today, but I desire them and trust that if my fantasy is meant to happen, it will happen. I even have a goal of thirty to reach. Until then…I’m learning to like the ticking sound of my clock.
I’ll name her Viola.
Alice can be reached at AliceActress@yahoo.com.