Scrappy Little Nobody

by Anna Kendrick

My idea of “normal” came mainly from film and television, and with that as my guide, I wrote down the kinds of things a “normal” girl might be doing when a boy showed up unexpectedly at her house. Of course, the one time a boy showed up unexpectedly at my house, he found this list.

When my mom and dad came home I told them I’d been burning incense. I doubt my parents believed me, but they could sense my desperate need to drop the issue, so they moved on.

If I’d known what a drag queen was, I would have thought, That woman looks like a female drag queen and chuckled to myself about my very first piece of lazy observational humor.

I found out my mother’s side of the family was universally flat-chested, so I asked if my deceased paternal grandmother had anything better goin’ on back in the day. I was a ladylike and sensitive child.)

Perhaps because my family’s emotional range spanned from composed to stoic, I was not trying to play ball.

Like my mom, he wanted to make his children feel loved and wanted, but he’s almost painfully Irish, so repression is more in his wheelhouse. The only time I’ve ever seen him cry was when he described the plot of the film Rudy to me.

I lost a Tony Award to Broadway legend Audra McDonald when I was twelve, so I’ve been a bitter bitch since before my first period. I’m very proud to have lost that Tony to Ms. McDonald. She is one of the finest talents in the theater world and genuine Broadway royalty. I also feel that if I had won and made a televised speech at age twelve, the delayed embarrassment would have been so severe, I’d currently be a Howard Hughes–style shut-in, but without the money for the mansion or the planes or the legion of servants to take away bottles of my urine.

Once a month my dad and I would drive home to Maine after the Sunday matinee and make it back in time for the Tuesday night show. On those days the entire cast would speed up their dialogue and cut off every laugh a moment too soon so that I could beat traffic. Only one cast member indulged in languid pauses during those performances, and our conductor, Paul Gemignani, would punish her by radically speeding up the tempo of her songs.

For the most part, though, I was happy with my sartorial choices. I thought I looked cool. Maybe I did. Or maybe I looked homeless. Either way, it didn’t occur to me that adults who weren’t auditioning or on a date could wear decent clothes. I once went to dinner with Aubrey Plaza and when she showed up in a skirt and a little white blazer, I thought, Is she going somewhere after this?

But buried in this mountain of lamé and brocade, there was one gorgeous soft-pink Marchesa. I still don’t know how she got it. I don’t know if the dress was lined with asbestos, or if they owed her a favor, or if she stole it out of a pile reserved for Anne Hathaway.

At the end of the night, I went home happy with the work we’d done and relieved that no flesh was harmed. I drove all the way home, pulled into my driveway, and, as I was putting the car in park, suddenly shrieked, “Oh my god, I just made out with Legolas!” Again, I’m not going to name that actor, as I wish to respect his privacy.

I was confused. Didn’t he know that? Surely the days of lessons and the dozens of emails coordinating them couldn’t have happened without the producer’s knowledge. An hour later, I got an email saying that a nearly identical car, with automatic transmission, would be used for my driving scene. I am now pretty annoying about cutting out the middle man, a.k.a. ignoring the chain of command and bothering the person in charge of an entire film set about every little problem I have.

For those of you thinking, Wait, she was in Twilight?, I sure was! I was the sassy, awkward friend who broke up the relentless succession of intense stare-downs with musings on boys, tanning, and various school gossip. It was a sweet gig. The rest of the actors had to bring heart and honesty to fantasy situations involving life, death, eternal love, and the preservation of one’s immortal soul. All I had to do was make jokes about how everyone was acting weird all the time.

Extreme cold messes with you. The elements don’t discriminate. And no amount of “you’re getting paid to do this” matters when your body’s basic survival requirements are in play. Someone once told me that the reason most Navy SEALs drop out isn’t because of the physical demands or the danger, but because they don’t want to be cold all the time anymore.

I’ve been sensitive to people talking down to me my whole life because I look young. When someone spoke to me like I was twelve, I would think, This motherfucker thinks I’m some idiotic little actress and they have to talk to me like a Miss USA contestant. I’d get all huffy about it. At my first Golden Globes I overheard an interview happening next to me and realized, Dear god, they’re talking to Dame Helen Mirren in that same sugary, condescending tone. So now it’s annoying, but I don’t take it personally.

This imaginary event is not catered, valeted, or overly planned. Come over in sweats and slippers. If you don’t have any, I can provide them, not because I bought them in preparation, but because I love sweats and slippers and I happen to own enough to outfit a small, very comfortable army.

I had no idea how to buy a car completely on my own. So I brought Aubrey Plaza. Aubrey’s got kind of a father-figure vibe, so she gave me a certain confidence walking into the dealership.