anna cameron constance

[jess1z1]

ANNA CAMERON CONSTANCE

Name: Anna Cameron Constance.
Nicknames: Ann.
Age: 36.
Date of Birth: June 29. A while ago.
Orientation: Straight (mostly).
Nationality: English.
Home Town: London, England.
Subject Taught: Classical music theory.
Play by: Mary-Louise Parker.

--- CYNICAL Her view on life is somewhat shrewed as she has simply thrown almost every sign of idealism and romanticism from her being and has had it replaced almost entirely by cynicism and crudeness. Yet, this crudeness is rarely shown with a relaxed spirit and general carefreeness. It's a dark type of humour, hers is, but it comes to her so naturally and she speaks her mind so freely that most of the time she doesn't realize how it might not sound as right to others. And her attitude is rarely negative. Part of her cynicism is that acceptance; life is so messed up and we're all going to get fucked anyway, might as well have a good time. Anna doesn't care for sugarcoating and euphemisms and she doesn't understand political correctness or why people feel the need to avoid using the right names of things. It's hard to get her to be taken aback by words only and she's a person who'll never judge others. How would she dare? You probably don't want to go to her for advise (well, not for sensible advise), but if you just want someone to listen, Anna's good at that.
--- RECKLESS Miss Cameron is one of the biggest potty-mouths you'll ever meet and she often speaks out of turn. Although these actions often come back to hunt her (and she always knows they will), in reality, she really does think before speaking and simply doesn't mind being bang out of order. It's just hard for her most of the time to tell the difference between this side of the line and that. For this reason, she truly, deeply appreciates honesty, however rude it may be. She can take it. Luckily, she's very independent and enjoys being alone. No one should have to endure her reckless and inappropriate behaviour anyway. She doesn't always have her shit together, inexplicably and inexorably, except when it comes to the keys. The piano keys, that is. When she's playing, you wouldn't guess her unstable nature. Nor you would from the way she dresses, always classic and simple. But she is. She's like a teenager, old enough to know that what she's doing is wrong but young not to care.
--- OBSERVANT Anna possesses an excellent memory and has always been rather intuitive and empathic although she rarely shows it or does anything with it if it doesn't concern her. However, she's always been a very fast learner and she has a very sharp ear. When she began playing the piano as a little girl, she would press on the keys randomly until figuring out the sounds and making connections by memory. She started playing show tunes and slowly gave herself stronger challenges. Chopin was always her favourite. Although it doesn't look like it ninety percent of the time, Anna's mind is always racing. Routines don't sit well with her and she loves change, so long as she is able to control it. Even taking a different path to the same place works for her, helps her stay at ease somewhat. Anna's not into letting her nerves show. Of course, she's human and not always successful at hiding it, but that's why she bites her nails, having to regularly recur to expensive manicures.

LIKES: Substances, nighttime, animals, making music, honesty, dark tones, vodka, sex, shoes.
DISLIKES: Little kids, limitations, cooking, working out, the country, having to cut back on the swearing, people who don't like the Beatles, being judged, the color yellow, potatoes.

Anna's family is not known for their warmth. She comes from several generations of good economic status (apparently, a great-great grandfather was good at the owning properties thing) and a passion for the fine arts. Almost all women in her family are art history majors, which they studied right before getting hitched. Despite this fact, the women in her family have always been the ones to wear the pants while allowing their men to think otherwise. Which is why Anna, as well as her sister who decided to become a painter (now working at the Met), received all of her mother's and grandmother's support in her choice of career.

Since a very young Anna enjoyed sitting alongside her grandmother when she played the piano at gatherings and such and her lessons began almost right away.

By the age of ten Anna was already performing in small events and a friend of her father's managed to get her to record. While his family encouraged this talent of hers, they never thought it'd be something to live off of and eventually asked her to put it aside so as to not neglect her education. And she did. She put it aside, only keeping her constant lessons.

When the time for college came, Anna gathered the courage to inform her parents of her decision to pursue music as a way of life as she had been accepted without their knowledge at a music school in France. There was no stopping her. After that Anna went on to perform in several countries, play a little bit of jazz in New York (next to Charlie Watts on a few occasions) and even to record for the second time, this time songs of her own. She married the CEO of a successful record label with whom she moved from Paris to Spain and who eventually divorced her as her career started going downhill.

Anna's volatile personality and subconscious tendency to damn everything to Hell after a while did the trick. Substance abuse and insufferable attitudes as well as tremendous unprofessionalism followed by apparent carelessness and then depression ended up wrecking her marriage and practically pushing her out of the business. Content with getting away from the stage for a while, Anna was told by her agent about a teaching position in America. She took it.

Why Emerson?
Well, she was not writing anything. She was failing to show up at meetings with recording producers and for the stage, rehearsals, daytime public events. Her agent warned her about her unprofessionalism (being late, hungover, promiscuous, you name it), but Anna was too caught up in being self-destructive. Eventually, her husband packed his things and left, sending the divorce papers shortly after. They haven't seen each other since. This somehow made Anna realize that she needed a break and to put her priorities in order and her agent suggested she take the teaching position. A change of pace might work.

The house was empty. Very much so. Alcohol-wise. Jack wasn’t sure how anybody expected him to play the piano without a little boost. It was simply too much to ask to have him cooped up in a strange little town with practically no TV and no internet and no no one and wait for him to write some music. Yeah, it sort of makes sense. But not really. A beer. Just a beer would do. He just needed something small to get him in the right mood, Jack decided. He slipped his sneakers on and left the house. He wouldn’t be taking the car this time.

He walked up to the closest local bar with its dim lights and smell of wood and cigarette smoke and he took a seat by the bar. The place was rather empty which stroke him as odd seeing as it was past midnight. But then again, it suited him just fine. All he was in search of was a one drink and then heading home to sit at the piano. A simple plan, not at all hard to follow and, somehow, Jack messed it up. Before realizing it, Jack was irremediably shitfaced in that place, somewhere around the point when one drink turned into several shots of whiskey and somehow, he'd lost complete track of time. After an extended game of beer pong with the bartender, Jack finally decided that it was time to drag his ass back to the house, now sure that he'd be falling asleep no question. The piano would have to wait a little more. It had waited for him to get out of rehab. A couple more weeks wouldn’t hurt. So he paid his bill and tipped the bartender like he had given him a lap dance and exited the smelly bar with the purpose of getting to his temporary home.

Somehow, once more, what with going by foot and not really knowing the place, Jack ended up getting himself lost in a nice friendly park that he was sure he hadn't passed on the way to the bar initially. He simply stood there for a minute or two, trying to figure out his next move when all of a sudden there was a light blinding his eyes. It was a car. The car had a siren on top. Oh, fuck. How the two police men managed to get Jack inside the police car he couldn't quite recall and all he knew was that they were silently driving him somewhere he futilely hoped was home as he tried to stop seeing double while resting in the back seat. He didn't think he'd resisted being taken because there was no sign of struggle and nothing really hurt. It began dawning on the blond that they were taking him to spend the night in prison and Jack just had to moan at that. Exactly then, or perhaps because of it, one of the cops, the one in the copilot's seat, turned to look at him over his shoulder and laughed.

"You're droppin' me off at home, righ'?" He managed to ask the cops playfully. They didn't answer. "Officer Krupke?" The driver merely looked at him through the rear view mirror. They either hadn't seen West Side Story or they just didn't find it funny. No, it was eminent. He was being taken in.

Long moments of silence went by them again before Jack started talking again.

"Could we at least put on some music?" He asked. "I'm falling asleep 'ere." He paused. Once more, they ignored him. Jack got testy.

"Fine! I'll sing then." But he waited, at least until the driver stole another glance at him through the mirror. Then he began.

"Our life... together... is so special... together.... we have growwwn..."

And then, as he was starting to really feel John Lennon in the lyrics, he was taken back by the sudden participation of the cop that had initially laughed at him. The man sung, and he sung well.

"We have grrooowwwn..."

There was an astonished pause after which Jack propped himself forward and rested his elbows on both seats, peaking his head between them. He continued.

"Although our life... is still special..."

And the line that came was sung in a chorus by the three people inside the car, softly and with feeling just as it should be.

"...let's take a chance and fly awaaaay... somewheeere... alone."

The rest of the car ride to the police station was a perfect harmony (perfect to Jack’s drunken hearing) of Just Like Starting Over which led the small trio to, somehow, spend the following couple of hours playing poker outside the cell. At some point during the evening the cops had reminded Jack that he had a rightful phone call which he had then used to order a pizza from a 24/7 place near by. It was nearly four in the morning when Jacks had lost his watch and pack of cigarettes to one of the cops who'd been in a lucky strike.

Just as the cops started collecting the cards and putting everything back in its place while Jack protested that it was still early and that he could still win his cigarettes back, some noise came from the front of the station. Another poor bastard was being taken in. The cops immediately went back to ignoring mood and one of them simply took Jack by the arm and guided him to the cell where he'd be spending the rest of the night in the company of another law offender.

Hi, I'm JESS and I'm 21 old. I'm TIRED. This is my FIRST application. I found Failure's Not Flattering from ANOTHER SITE.

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[- JESSE]

I'm sorry to make you wait, there are just a few things I need a second opinion on. Right now I'm going to put the 'pending' notice on your app, so other admin know it's been read.

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[- SALLY SEKRUTS]

-- please make each personality trait a good solid paragraph. At least of one-hundred words or over five decent sentences.
-- your sample kind of switches tenses a little, do you have another we can see?

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[jess1z1]

Hi. Is that better?

[- JESSE]

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