The true adventures of an actor and writer navigating her way through the notorious LA entertainment & dating scene.
This May marked my eigth year of living on single girl lane. That’s the exit right off the I’m good on my own highway. In these eight years I have grown tremendously and learned a few lessons about myself, love and the opposite sex. So, without further ado…let’s get to this list. 8 Years Single, 8 Lessons Learned:
1) Speak Up: I can never figure out if someone likes me. Seriously, unless someone literally comes out and says, “Jonesie, I like you.” I never assume that they do. A guy could be blatantly flirting and I will mindlessly stare at him like he is a killer clown from outer space, and I am petrified with fear. Please for the love of all things holy just tell him/her how you feel! If they reciprocate your feelings, then mission accomplished. If they don’t, then it’s their loss. At least you released your emotions instead of bottling them up inside. Be a boss, and speak up for what you want. Whether it’s in a relationship, work issue or business matter.
2) Live Alone: Living on your own, in my opinion, is a must for everyone…especially women. Knowing that I can kill all the spiders in my apartment by my damn self makes me feel badass. Also, I’ve learned how to be okay with being on my own. I have my own set of tools, can carry an insane amount of groceries up a flight of stairs, put together an IKEA item, fix my toilet and finish an entire pizza all by myself. Goals yo.
3) Learn Your Money: Where is your money going every month? How much are you spending? How much are you saving? What are your plans for your money? These are all lessons I have learned on my own the hard way. Like, the extra hard, unnecessarily, what the hell were you thinking kind of ways.
My mom was perfect with her money. She made great money at her job, saved, paid bills on time, budgeted the spending for her and my dad, basically everything. My mom was a money wizard, and thankfully she taught me how to be as well. I still made mistakes that were dumb, and some of them necessary because it taught me how to “learn my money”.
For me, depending on someone else financially is not an option, but if that is for you and you are happy living your life that way I am not judging you. Even if you are, you still need to learn your money. Know how to budget, where your money is headed every month, and if there are costs that need to be cut. Money is the number one reason for discord in relationships, so you want to enter into one fully aware of your financial situations, and have a plan just incase of a financial emergency.
As a weirdo kid, I was obsessed with horror films. My mom and I would bond over our shared love of horror and fright fest. My mom introduced me to the horror genre at a young age, and I fell in love. There was this movie I thought was ridiculous, ‘Killer Clowns from Outer Space’ but I watched it anyway. After all, by junior high, I’d become a pro at watching and living through horror films without fear. No monster had ever gotten me, and Freddy Krueger wasn’t slashing through my pillows, so why not watch this b-movie and laugh right? Wrong.
I’m not sure if it was the fact that clowns are inherently creepy (don’t fight me on this because they are), or that I watched it alone, or maybe even the thought that on some level alien clowns with sharp teeth really were going to come down from the sky and kill me, but this movie scared the sh*t out of me. Anyway, I watched it and re-watched it one million times, and to this day, I am still creeped out by clowns. Like, when I see one, I naturally want to kick him in the balls and run away. There are so many things we have conditioned ourselves to fear in life, and although I could probably write an entire dissertation on my very rational fear of clowns, this post is about the fear we have such a hard time letting go of; the fear of Failure and Success.
Trying to succeed as a writer/actor/producer in LA is unbelievably hard. Everyday, I am rejected, ignored, passed over and left wondering why the hell I even chose this route in life. The talent is God given, and while I know it’s there, getting the right people to notice me is difficult. Outside of submitting headshots, creating my own content, struggling to get auditions, and watching less qualified people succeed based on who they know or how they look, there are also one gazillion women trying to land in the same sweet spot as I am…and that is daunting.
This May marks the eighth year of my singledom status. Last week, I spoke on a panel about dating and relationships, and there was a moment when I was asked what I’ve learned along the way as a single woman. Without hesitation, I knew what my answer would be:
Me: “I had to grow and realize how dope, and powerful I am. Before I realized just how amazing I am, my self worth and confidence was wrapped up in someone else. I am responsible for my happiness, not the men in my life. It is my job to love myself, and not depend on someone else to make me feel good about me. You must become who you want to attract.”
Dope right? I said a lot more cool things, people clapped and nodded their heads. You know people get you when they nod their heads while clapping. So, if I am so dope, and know what I want in my future boo…why do I think I’ll disappoint him? Well, let’s get one thing straight, I don’t think I’ll disappoint him…I know.
Apparently single-shaming is an epidemic, and I have become its latest victim. At work, while discussing random mundane things with a co-worker I am not really friends with. You know that co-worker that always has something to say and you just pretend type on your computer while they stand at your desk yammering, in hopes that they’ll go away…that co-worker. During the one-sided chat, the topic of money jumped into the conversation, which went a little something like this:
Me: I usually work 2 jobs.
Co-Worker: Well yah, you’re SINGLE.
Me: That’s not why. My work ethic-
Her: My husband makes good money and I don’t have to worry about that.
I don’t have to worry about whether there is enough.
I guess being single equates to being a broke, lonely loser. Women are shamed for being single, while men are praised for it. I’m a lonely loser for being single, but a man my exact age, is a “player”. And the fact that I work, sometimes two jobs, and live on my own, pay all of my own bills, and am independent, means nothing because at thirty-six years old…I am single…and a loser, according to her.
To Live & Date in LA has received 4 nominations in the 2016 LAWebfest including: Outstanding Writing in a Comedy, Outstanding Lead Actress, and Outstanding Guest Actor for Mark Ehrenstein in Episode 4, Season 1 “Are We Sluts?” I received both nominations for Outstanding Writing and Acting. I am so proud that my hard work is being recognized, and the wonderful talent of the cast. Make sure to watch all of the amazing To Live & Date in LA episodes, and thanks for your support!
xo Jonesie
This week I received two rejections: one from Amazon Studios, and another from the popular blog site Hello Giggles, famously ran by Zoey Deschanel. As a writer/actor/blogger I face an insane amount of rejection. But in reality, we all face a large amount of rejection throughout our lives, and it’s how we respond to it that determines our destiny. As one of the few black kids in my elementary school growing up I was rejected by classmates constantly. The only time I was not rebuffed by them is when I was on stage as the lead in a play, or performing in the talent show.
As an actor/writer you’re constantly told you suck. Really…you’re told your audition was not up to par, you are not skinny enough, pretty enough, tall enough, black enough, white enough, funny enough, and so on. I know so many of you have faced the same things. You have been on what seems like hundreds of job interviews that never pan out. Your relationships seem to never go anywhere, you just can’t save enough, or your career goals seem incredibly far-fetched. So, how can facing constant rejection actually help you? Here’s how rejection made me a total badass.