![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif) neworleans |
[29 Sep 2007|01:39am] |
 You know, I wish I could say I lived a life of tragedy, a life full of sorrow and regret, of drugs, broken families, and mistakes. Maybe it would boost my push into fame. But I didn't. I grew up in a small suburb outside of Los Angeles with my mom. I did well in school, stayed out of trouble, and graduated highschool with honors. After taking two semesters in a community college, I realized it didn't work for me. I took on a few odd jobs, one of them being a stage hand for a local theater. During the production of one of their annual plays two seasons ago, one of the male leads got sick two weeks before the opening. They couldn't find anyone else to fill the part, as there was no understudy for him, but because I'd been around the set for some time and had a small grasp on the part, I offered.
From then on, I haven't been the same. The acting bug bit me, and it bit me hard. I haven't been able to escape it. I've had mostly understudy roles, but the times I've been on stage are just thrilling. It's a drug, well, the adrenaline is, I really believe it is. I know I don't have that great of a singing voice, but I do say it's decent enough for passing. Being Curly in "Oklahoma" was an amazing experience. And to my luck, there was a talent scout in the audience that night! We talked for a bit, and two weeks later, I had an agent and a small background role in one of the CSI series. Six months later, I'm finding myself working my ass off in this stupid assed town trying to find acting work. You know? Maybe I'll get this part, maybe I won't. It's hard work and I hate it half the time, but then again, I do it because I love it.
And while it's all thrilling and new and exciting, I can't forget that coming to New Orleans has another meaning to me. My mom has always said that I'm the man in her life. Me. Christopher Jason Carmine (though, preferably called Jason), son of Anne Carmine. Born on January 11, 1984. She never remarried after her short one just before I was born. I've never known my father. In all of my twenty-three years, I've never had the desire to contact him. He was just a name and place to me. Mom had mentioned before that he was part of a jazz troupe, but I can't remember correctly. Maybe filming out here will open new doors for me. Maybe it won't. Maybe I will refuse to get to know my father. Twenty-three years without him ever making the effort to contact me first really shows a man how much his father does care. Or maybe there's just more to it than that. Life sure is full of those fucking maybes, isn't it?
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