I think I may have to get more tattoos – especially if I move up to SF anytime soon.  This gallery of Meg Allen’s BUTCH portrait project is awesome and beautiful, and I hope she expands it to take photos in other cities and not-cities across the country. I lot of us look quite a bit less “styled” than her handsome Bay Area subjects…


And I wish it were because I’m NOT the only butch actor in LA. But really it’s because I think I might be done with acting. Kaput. Finito.

The pilot I was in aired last week – the first episode of Jennifer Falls on TVLand. Here in LA it was difficult to watch it because it coincided with the first game of the Stanley Cup, and since the Kings are actually a respectable sports establishment here in the desert, C and I drove all over creation trying to find a bar that was empty enough that we could change the channel and watch a feel-good family comedy.

I’ll get to the point – mid-way through my Paleo burger, I realized they rewrote my scene, cutting me out entirely. It’s nothing personal – they actually made it a better scene, and cut the TERRIBLE LESBIAN JOKES that were embarrassing (seriously – Birkenstock jokes??? what year is this???).  But the rewrite made my character obsolete, so… No me. It took me a few moments to realize they had re-shot without me and that the lead was actually standing where I had previously been paid to sit. C thinks they’re setting it up for me to appear later, but I’m not so sure.

It’s not the cutting out that is disappointing. All but a tiny little part of me knows that it wasn’t about my performance.

It’s the fact that I’ve been doing this for 20 years. 20 years of acting classes, new wardrobes, obsessing over weight, trying to figure out if I was too gay or not gay enough… 20 years with no paychecks to show for it. 20 years with only a smattering accumulation of professional credits.

Any other career that didn’t pay you for 20 years (or paid you not even the equivalent of one month’s expenses added up over that time…) – well, that wouldn’t be a career. It wouldn’t even be a hobby, really. No one would do that.

And it’s not about the pay. I don’t love it anymore. I actually don’t know if I ever did – I was just always told I was “good” at it, so I kept going.

Other kids parents encouraged them to be financiers and lawyers. My folks wanted nothing more than for me to be the performer neither of them could be. So I kept doing it.

But when it comes right down to it… It’s not for me.

And that leaves the question: then what is?

The new Oscars poster came out today:


That’s basically the height of butch* success, to me. To be recognized, as a performer, at the industry’s main event – in a fabulous gender-bending tux. I heart black tie.

Damn that it’s always the funny girls.


*not that I necessarily think Ellen’s very butch, but you know – she does good things in a Brooks Brothers vest. I gotta hand it to her stylist.

Hi there – happy holidays and all of that! I miss you all, and the strange thing is, I literally think about writing a post everyday. Seriously. I think those thoughts really strong and loud and hard and then continue to ignore the action that would require me logging in and, you know, writing anything down.

That’s actually kind of how things are going right now – I know when I last wrote back in August, I spoke about how hard everything was. Well, since then, things are still pretty hard – harder, in some ways.

My partner lost her job, so now my freelancing is our sole support system. Hence my bloody bloody fingers from making websites happen all day. And my lack of desire to type anything else when I could be drinking a gin/craft beer instead. (Keewanah Brewery? Michigan folks? Know what I’m sayin’?)

My weight is all over the place, but that place is mostly heading up, which is a HUGE, suffocating, mind-consuming problem for me.  I’m working on it, but I’m in that spin where I can only focus on either fitness or eating healthy on any given day, but I need to be doing both to make a difference. Don’t you hate when you know what you should be doing, but that should is what makes you just want to curl up and die?

On the upside, my gigantic 9 month old puppy now loves his walks. Small victories. 🙂

On the HUGE UPSIDE: I booked, and shot, and was paid to be on, a TV pilot. 

You read it right – I FINALLY BOOKED A TV GIG. Coming this Spring. New pilot – Jennifer Falls – from a veritable A-team of Hollywood folks, including headliner Jaime Pressly (of My Name is Earl Emmy-winning fame) and the wonderful Missy Pyle (of many many things, my favorite of which is Dodgeball. No lies.).  Hopefully the series will take off, because there is a teeny tiny chance my character could be seen more than once – I have a name and lines and a whole lesbian softball team with custom uniforms and everything. Sandy the lesbian softball captain. That’s me on TV.

I will write more about that soon. Because I will write more soon. Truth.

How are you all doing? Tell me your sordid holiday drama!

Hi all – I took a little break from writing, because the last thing I want is to be whiny and depressed all the time.  Things have been pretty hard over here – under the surface, which to me is worse than having your mess all out in the open. We moved into the perfect little house, we adopted the perfect little dog (even when he’s being a perfect little shit), and now I work from home in the perfect position that I manifested out of ponies and oatmeal and sleeping with a crinkly face. (“I WILL support myself this way… I WILL support myself this way…”) It all looks great from a distance.

Up close I’ve been kind of crazy. Over stressed. Under-creative. Quick to snap. Unhappy with my body. Unhappy with acting, or my lack of acting, or both. Generally lost. Even my puppy doesn’t want to take walks with me. (I’ve been assured he’ll grow out of it – it’s apparently a phase.)

I forgot about the self-care. I did. I forgot about doing small things for myself to take care of me. And I’m not sure what those things even are most days – that’s the whirlpool I’m swirling in.

I think I’m going to do the Artist’s Way again – at the suggestion of my best friend from NYC, who visited with her gf last week and told me I looked like hell, in so many words. Somehow that gives me the permission to write it all out without judgment. I recommend it to anyone who’s stuck like I am.

On the upside – all the lesbians on TV are making me happier! Making me more interested in keeping up with this crazy stupid acting industry.  The downside is that I only watch TV when I’m at the absolute bottom. But at least that means I’m starting to climb up and out.






I have mixed feelings about the uprising of internet personalities who gain sometimes awesome and sometimes undeserved traction through YouTube/etc channels (Jenna Marbles, anyone?). On the one hand, I know as a performer that the best way to excel is to perform – constantly, consistently, in front of an audience. Put your work out there as often as possible. Get the feedback, good or bad, and go with it and make more stuff. I love that. On the other hand – man am I tired of listening to stupid videos and worse, seeing stupid comments on stupid videos. If you have nothing to say, don’t make a video, and if you have nothing nice to comment about, DO NOT leave a comment, jackass. Please.

On the flip side – an incredible thing about internet video stars that I do wholeheartedly LOVE is how I see it empowering queer performers who would otherwise be ignored almost completely.  That just fuckin’ rules.

This has been making the rounds, and it’s basically how I feel every day:

Fuck yeah. <3 Hart. We’re both in SoCal. We should totally wear some melon together.


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