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Precious Chong Blog March 3rd/2007

Precious Chong is so happy to be crying

The curse has been lifted. The monkey’s off my back. The pattern has been broken. I “cried” at an audition! As Wes, my husband, put it “You finally cried at the audition instead of afterwards!”. Well, it’s more than that. I felt alive in the audition. I didn’t leave there wanting to crawl into a hole or under my covers or out of my skin. As I was preparing for this audition there was a part of me that was like “forget it, I don’t want to do this anymore, let’s quit”. But then there was this other part of me that was like “f.. it” I want to just “see what happens”. It was a fun character too. I play someone who gave their child up for adoption at 16 and the girl comes back 20 years later to ask me why. Real juicy.

I just read Jane Fonda’s autobiography and one of the things that struck me was her saying that as she got older it became harder for her to act, to get past her fears and take on a new character. This is after Klute and Coming Home and The China Syndrome. I mean you’d think logically that it would become more comfortable. Here is this totally accomplished actress who’s basically done it all and still, still she describes it as “terrifying”. I can relate. But hey that’s why we love it. The rush. The adrenaline. The unknown.

Precious Chong talks about the Oscars

The Oscars. I love to watch them. I liked the dresses and the stars and the hoopla. I thought Ellen did a good job. But man, maybe it’s an east coast thing or a “having a two year old’ thing but I could not stay up for them. Usually they give one big award up front and then the boring ones. But this year it was torturous. I’m glad Martin Scorcese won and Helen Mirren who really truly rocks. I saw her once. I was in Hollywood seeing my “Broadway Danny Rose” agent. It’s an old building on Hollywood and Vine and I’m in the elevator and in walks Helen Mirren. I didn’t realize it was her of course, because she

looked well so “normal”. But then when I did, I hyperventilated, “Oh My God!”. Yup, like that. I mean Prime Suspect and the cook the thief his wife and the lover, which I think is the most accurate movie made about the restaurant business. She’s just so good. And so sexy and so real. Which brings me to….

Botox. I want it. I’ve had it. And oh, how I want it. I know, I know everyone gets all crazy about it. It makes you look weird. No facial expressions etc…But getting old is a bitch. And quite frankly the frown line in between my eyes makes me look, well “mad” all the time. I don’t like it. As soon as Jack is off the boob I’m getting me some bottilism.

Precious Chong and her Dancing

Oh there was something else I wanted to talk about. Oh yeah. The Academy Awards. I used to dance professionally. This was the early nineties in Los Angeles and one of the big jobs of the year was dancing at the Academy Awards. One year Paula Abdul choreographed and for the audition, hundreds upon hundreds of dancers showed up. For like twenty spots. And who remembers the dancing at the Academy Awards? I don’t. Then it was Debbie Allen, with whom I have a huge personal beef. She was just so mean. And there would always be this huge open call audition and then inevitably she’d hire the dancers she always worked with. Dancing. It makes acting look like a cake walk. I sound bitter. I guess because, I am. No it’s funny to think about. Me in my bike shorts and high top dance sneakers driving around in my black jeep doing hip hop. I mean I was a ballet dancer. I looked like a dork.

Precious Chong and the Pussycat Dolls

Which brings me to the Pussycat Dolls. That song is so WRONG. “Doncha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?”. Doncha? Doncha? I was in an all girl circus group called “Girls On Stilts” and we used to have the same dance agents as “The Pussycat Dolls”. I’m not making this up, I swear. This was way back when they were a burlesque dance group. Anyways, our agents never gave us any love, well not as much as the Pussycat Dolls. So when the annual Christmas party came along, they asked the Girls On Stilts to serve hors d’oevres and the Pussycat Dolls got to perform. How sad is that? It was awkward too. We’d have to bend down on our stilts so that people could reach the trays. I wanted to be a Pussycat Doll but I was always just a Girl on Stilts. Gosh all the skeletons are coming out of the closet today.

On another note, when is Paris Hilton going to stop having birthday parties? I’m tired just thinking about it. All that flying and jet lag and time changes. Yuck. Paris Hilton stop it. Stop it right now. Go home, take off your make up and get some sleep. No more vodka Collins and Marlboro lights and Coffee Bean Iced Blendeds. After 25, it all catches up to you Paris. So go home. Go home now.

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