Hey guys, it's Jen. I just finished shooting my new… Looks, I guess? Characters? Headshots? However it is, if you know what I'm talking about, you know that you have to do, like, a few of them. And I say have to— I'm completely opting into this; It's not as though the film industry is really banging on my door to use my face. But I figured, after almost 10 years out of the game, why the fuck not? Why not do it again? So that's what I'm doing.
Because I look the way I do, I do not fit a lot of standard casting calls. For example, receptionist or pedestrian. A lot of what I get is nightlife, or city girl, or anime nerd. So, those are the looks that I did.
I have a look called You look like a gallery owner. I have a look called Are you going to the beach today? I have a look called Alt Punk Queer, because that's just what people think I am. (I guess, if enough people think it, then you are it, you know what I mean?)
So I had to tailor all of these looks. These looks I'm capable of, and really distill those parts of my personality that people pick up on. They're not incorrect, they're just incomplete. But here I am, distilling myself down to these specific characteristics and caricatures of myself.
When I first told people that I wanted to get into the film industry as an adult, a lot of people didn't think I could do it. And it's not to say I have done it, but I've literally had people tell me— You know, people were trying to talk me out of it based on my appearance. Which is funny because I've always been scouted by modeling agencies specifically for the way I look. I guess that makes sense— I guess all models are, huh? But for the way I look different, I suppose, is my point. I realized that a lot of people were trying to, they were projecting the opinions that they had about what a standard type looks like. And the thing is, I'm not a standard type, even in the subcultures that I visually appear to be a part of.
I've talked before about how I'm not a punk, but I look like one. Along with people telling me not to pursue the careers I moved to pursue, there were people who kind of pigeonholed me and assumed that if I was going to move to LA, then I was going to live in one of the coolest neighborhoods, which for the sake of evergreeniness, I'm not going to name because the cool neighborhood is changing all the time.
And even by then, the neighborhood that that guy was naming was very passe, but he didn't know that. He just thought that I was so cool, that that's the neighborhood that I would live in, because that's where cool people live, sarcasm.
[general deep throat choking noises]
But! He was wrong, because I would never move to the cool hipster neighborhood despite looking like this, because obviously I am an inner city person! So, of course, I moved to the land of stars and urine.
I have friends who live in the cool— in the no longer cool, but stereotypically-cool neighborhood— I have friends who live over there and it is so fucking inaccessible. It is impossible to deal with by public transit. The buses come once an hour. I do not care that you have three bars. Your neighborhood blows ass.
But that reminded me there was a guy who lived in the cool neighborhood, and because I'd never really been to the cool neighborhood, I said, oh, I'll go over to the cool neighborhood. I looked up the bus routes to get to the bar he wanted to meet at, and it took an hour and 45 minutes to go 4.5 miles.
And so I said, hey, is there anywhere else we can meet? Because the buses take a really long time and the routes that are shorter involve a lot of walking. And I can't necessarily walk all the time, especially if I don't know where and what kind of neighborhood I'm walking into.
And he said, you know, I can tell already this isn't going to work out. And I could hear this snicker in his voice, like, can't walk, which I wondered if he thought that— I wonder if he thought that I was, like, using old pictures and that I was morbidly obese, and that's why I couldn't walk. Or, using old pictures of me pre-car-accident, and I was actually in a wheelchair? I wonder if he understood that, like, sometimes your nerves just hurt, because some people occasionally have nerve damage that is otherwise an invisible disability and you wouldn't even fucking know.
And in fact, people assume based on the way that that person looks, that she is your neighbor and lives in your cool-ass neighborhood. But here's the thing about that cool-ass neighborhood. It's full of shitty people who chortle and laugh when somebody says they can't walk well.
So no, I would never live there.
And I thought about how like dumb and ugly he was and like, why was I even interested in the first place? And it's because I wanted to go to the supposedly cool neighborhood. Like, if people say you belong in a place, you want to see what it's about. And then when you find out that it's like full of trash, you're like, why do you think I belong there? Don't typecast me! Unless you're paying me daily union rate. Thank you.
[~*guitar solo*~]
Trimmy Trims: Typecast