I really need to get back to writing more frequently. At least at times like right now when I'm super busy and in any given day I see/experience so much ridiculous that it's hard to sift through when I finally sit down to write. Just today I said at least 10 times, "well there's one for the blog...."
When I left you last I was going to a callback for the Fringe show with my friend. I did not, in fact, get the part. I did well at the callback and I hear that I was in the final running, but in the end didn't get the part. In addition to the usual, "we've decided to go in a different direction" email, I also received lovely notes from both the producer and the director. A very nice thing. Majorly bummed about not getting this one, but I suppose it's good for me. A little disappointment fuels the fire.
I DID however, get offered the part in the other project and I accepted. I will be playing a sexually free, seemingly ditzy but undercover very perceptive girl in a short play in the Strawberry Festival. We go up at the end of July. So that's good! More about this to come, I'm sure!
I did some more flyering. I know. I know. I said I was done. But fact of the matter is that I'm not. I did cut back and I think with the pick up of tour season (it's getting very busy) I can limit this part of my life even more. The good news is that my sanity has remained intact during my shifts recently. Though, I have to say, now that our outfits are a bit more revealing in this warmer weather the bullshit we deal with is a little stupid. I counted in ONE two hour shift 7 men asked me if my phone number was on the coupon. And EVERY time, inevitably, they turn to anyone standing next to them (I've seen them even look for validation from strangers) and belly laugh and nod like they just came up with a quote worthy of citation. No type of man is immune to this disorder. I've seen business men, hot dog sellers, construction workers, cable guys, door men, once a man pushing the italian ices cart. A word to the free world...or at least to whoever is reading this blog...don't ask the question! I don't care if you're the man of my dreams, my number isn't on the flyer... and you aren't clever. K? :)
Thursday brought a private shopping tour. It was uneventful - the best kind of tour. Immediately when I got home that day I suddenly remembered: Inside the Actor's Studio tickets! I jumped up and got my run on BACK to the train. Got there just in time to see Jennifer Aniston be her likeable self. One important lesson from her interview: "find something to do in the mean time that you love. Because, until your big break, you'll be doing a lot of it." See. Even Jennifer Aniston agrees with my recent decisions...
Which reminds me - I arrived home one day looking like a bag lady (as usual) with my hands full of my various personas I had taken on that day when I tripped over a giant box in my lobby. I looked down and I swear the damn thing was glowing...It was from Institiute of Integrative Nutrition! I got my materials in the mail!! Somehow I was able to add it to my load and climb my three flights of stairs with a tear in my eye (some from the pain of carrying all that crap, but MOSTLY because I was so damn excited!). Now I just have to figure out how I'm going to structure my nutty life once school starts. A problem I am grateful to have. :)
Tour from hell on Friday. Itinerary was wrong. Appointment times were wrong. Lady left her credit card at a designer showroom (btw, she kept everything in wads in her jean pockets, and she was shocked when she couldn't find her card. Seriously? I mean...Seriously?). Just a hot mess. Then I had to run from there to an audition. It was one of those days.
The audition was funny. I had made a comment via text to the friend who recommended me for the part that I didn't think anyone in the room could drink legally. Turns out I was right, BUT I did meet some lovely girls in that waiting area. I was left with two of them at the very end and when one was in the audition room, a conversation with the other revealed that she's a sophomore in college. 20 years old. "Wait a min. How old are you?" She asked. "How old do you think I am? I won't be offended. Just want to know how others see me" (a very actory thing for me to say).
"My age. 20,21?"
"I'm 27." "WHHHHAAAT?!! No way! You are not!" was her response. I swear, based on the reaction, I thought maybe she misheard and thought I said that I was Yoda's age.
The other girl then came back and immediately the 20 year old said to her, "How old do you think she is??" with an enthusiasm I had yet to see come from her and a finger pointed in my direction. "My age? 22?" the girl answered. "SHE'S 27!!" Collective: "Whoaaaa!"
They sat there, mouths agape. Shock frozen on their faces. I'm not complaining. I mean as an actor this is probably a major asset. I just think it's weird. It used to be that people always thought I was much older than I actually was. I'm like freakin' Benjamin Button. Gonna milk that for all it's worth!
The audition went well. Everyone in the room was super nice and talkative. After resume scrutiny, I was asked to do my raptor impression. Again, I terrified about half the people in the room. I think one girl started crying. But, also again, no one's going to forget the girl that jumped off of furniture and contorted her face to look like a creature from Jurassic Park. No. One.
I had a callback for the part today. ;) It went well. So now I wait... and so do you.
(but hopefully not a whole week. Goal: mid week recap. Do it.)