15 minutes of fame

it's always when i'm stuck in traffic, trying to head out of town to get to an audition three hours away for a part that i'm probably not gonna get anyway that i question what the hell i'm doing with my life.

and yesterday was no different.

i'm always early. always. it's an annoying trait and the reason i always have work or a book to read to help pass the time. so, when i do head down to music city usa, i usually get there about an hour before anyone is expecting me, so i wander. and because of this, i've been able to get to know the streets of nashville a bit.

and thank god because yesterday went all to hell.

because of my trend of being early, i decided to push my departure time a bit. i headed out the door at 3:30 to arrive in nashville for the audition at 5:45 (they're an hour behind us). but as i left town, my brain decided to nap and i a) forgot how to get on the interstate, b) changed my mind three times as to how to find the interstate, and c) wound up in traffic all three times and didn't actually get out of town and on the highway until 4.

but somehow, i still managed to make pretty good time. i went about 80 and except for a semi's tire flying off and hitting the front of my car and giving me severe anxiety that it had done major damage, there were no problems on the drive down.

the problems arose when i got to town at 5:20 and couldn't read my directions. that's right, my directions. my printer is not speaking to me, so i wrote out the directions by hand and of course the address is on a street that has two different names and when i put each name into google maps, yes, two different addresses showed up. but, even with this lovely red flag hovering above me before i left home, i decided not to worry about it until i was stuck in a 'turn only' lane headed away from town and towards open fields to think there might be a problem.

that was when i called my agent. who didn't answer. and i left a message saying that all was all right and i'm sure i would be there on time and not to worry. (he didn't call back).

as i sped and yelled and screeched to a halt and changed lanes in front of screaming folks, i breathed in the good and let out the bad. i took care of what i could when i could. i changed from my flipflops to my boots at stop lights. i put on lipstick while waiting for the traffic cop to wave me through. and i was ready - except for the one boot that was out of reach on the floor of the passenger side.

and then somehow, by the grace of all things holy, i found the address...kind of. i saw what would have been the neighboring building, so i swerved around and drove around the block, searching for the building i was to go to.

i screamed a few times and took deep breaths and found a space in a city parking lot. i parked, put on my other boot, and paid a lovely SIX BUCKS. frustrating. i ran to the door of the building and my hand touched the door handle at precisely 5:45.

i had arrived. and i could clearly see my reflection in the glass door.

um, funny thing. when i'm nervous or bored or talking to someone or not talking, i play with my hair. i flop it around and there it is. and because of the audition, for some reason, i decided to put a little product in my hair to make it look like it was in some way on purpose. well...looking at my reflection, moments before i would surely knock their socks off with my brilliant line reading, i realized that i had 'sex' hair (you know what i'm talking about). i looked crazy. my hair stood up in some parts, was matted down in others, and stuck out in a fan behind my left ear.

i looked at myself in absolute horror.

and then walked inside.

i rushed to the top of the stairs and went in the meeting room and signed my name while breathing like a dying lama. the actresses (ugh, i'm one of them) sat on the leather sofas and eyed me up and down as i lumbered over, sweat dripping and pooling around me. i collapsed on a sofa and looked back at the door to see a hand-written sign that read:

you are not allowed to park in the lot next door

well, crappity crap crap. yes, of course, my car was parked in the lot next door. but i paid, so they could kiss my ass, said my tough inner self. (my meek self was concerned with towing.)

a woman came out and called in the actors in the order they'd signed up. i was the last of the group of 'medical examiners.' they all had long, brushed hair and pigment in their skin. eh.

finally, she called my name.

i went into an office where the woman introduced herself as tillie and the man as simon, the director. (for those of you who don't know, people who work in film always have names like this). i plopped down in a chair, but tillie said that i would actually be standing for the audition...'or crouching, if you want.'

'i do want to crouch, thank you,' i said. and i said it in a way where it was clear that i thought i was being witty, even though it wasn't at all witty and i just sounded really dumb.

but, i wanted to crouch, so crouch i did.

tillie read my cue line and then i crouched and pulled back the flannel shirt of the imaginary dead man on the carpeted floor and said, 'one pistol shot to the chest. large collabor - cal-."

yep, i effed up the line.

'we need to change that line because everyone has messed it up today,' tillie said and laughed a little and simon pretended to say the line with marbles in his mouth, 'large col-la-bubububu.' and i laughed because that's what you do at an audition. you laugh at shit that isn't funny.

we did it again and again i crouched over the body and said the line (this time correct).

'hmm, you don't have to be emotional. this is your job. you were asked what you found and you're simply stating it. let's go again.' --for the record, i wasn't being emotional. it wasn't like i was saying the line like i had just discovered a loved one shot through the heart (and you're to blame). i thought i just said it.

so, again, i crouched and said, 'one pistol shot to the chest. large caliber bullet.'

'you're not announcing it to the world. you're just saying it,' tillie said, which sounded a lot like, 'no, you're not mad at him, you're just pointing. hey you. i know you. i know you.'

okay. giving information. not announcing. no emotion. just the facts.

i crouched, peeled back the imaginary shirt off the imaginary corpse, saw the imaginary bullet hole, 'one pistol shot to the chest. large caliber bullet.' and i think i gave a 'that's all i got' look to tillie, which could have been taken as a character choice or, what it really was, a 'please don't ask me to do this again because i really don't give a shit' look.

and they didn't ask me to do it again. they thanked me and i headed out and got back in my car (yes, it was still there) at 6:00.

fifteen minutes.

so i drove home.

again, don't think i'll be hearing from my agent regarding the role of the medical examiner.

to the chest

my agent doesn't call me to audition all too often, so it's strange to get a call twice in less than a month. (and so soon after my failure at the curves audition. but alas.) i have one this evening - again in nashville.

here's the line i gots to get just right:

One pistol shot to the chest. Large caliber bullet.

jealous?

walk the walk

a few days ago i received an email from my agent. he'd submitted my headshot for a national commercial for curves and they wanted to see me at their open call because i fit the bill:

These women should be warm, open, happy, busy, giving people who are beautiful both inside and out. They have a smile and personality that makes us want to grab a coffee with her...

These females will need to have some rhythm, as this spot has dancing. =)

i pictured an audition comparable to 'a chorus line.' or maybe a group of women in a big room doing jazzercise steps and slow-motion high-five's. i pictured tight-assed suits sitting at a card table watching all the "warm, open, happy, busy, giving" women doin their thing.

i woke up early - very early - 5:45. you see, my agent, and every audition he gets me, is in nashville, which is about three hours away. but it's a hub down here, and last january when i got some crazy idea that i wanted to be an actor again, i went and auditioned and got an agent - so now, every once in a while, i get to drive hours for a chance at the big time (big time not included).

i headed out, tired as all hell, drinking coffee and not at all feeling like the "warm, open, happy, busy, giving" person i was supposed to be.

when i arrived at the best western and walked into the lobby, three women in black yoga pants with long, combed hair strolled out, so i knew i was in the right place. it was then that the first moment of 'i'm a dork' sunk into my stomach. the notice said to wear workout clothes, so i wore shorts and a t-shirt because that's what i wear every morning to death boot camp. but when i saw the other women, i knew i should have at least attempted to look cool. (it's that horrible feeling we've all had - when you leave your house you feel really good about what you're wearing, but then after three hours in the car, no sleep, and a moment of clarity in the lobby of a best western, you realize that your legs are not tone nor tan and the red dots from either mosquitoes or razor burn can be seen by all.)

a young gangly guy gave me a form to fill out and for a moment i was the only one there. then a middle aged woman came in who seemed more my speed. she had real workout clothes on and her hair in a cap and messy ponytail. but then she took off her sunglasses and i saw that she had a black eye, and the only explanation was that she got it 'on vacation' (?).

and then the actress came in. (one of the most painful things in life is actors at an audition). she had on more jewelry than i've ever worn in my life, with her long hair flowing, and showed way too much excitement for filling out forms.

we were then told to gather our things and when i stood up, black-eye asked, 'so, you like zumba?' i stared blankly. 'do you zumba?' she said again. i looked down at my clothes to see what my style might indicate (nothin). 'i don't think so,' i said meekly. on our way across the parking lot, she said that it was why she was there - for the new zumba ad (still no idea).

the three of us walked into the room where a young director and a camera guy sat behind a table and looked through headshots.

'hi ladies,' the director said. we put our bags down and she went up to black-eye and asked how the surgeries were going (not sure if the surgeries happened on this violent vacation or after). and then we were told to stand in a diagonal and say our name, agent, age, and something interesting about ourselves (i.hate.this.crap.). 'carol, let's start with you.' i looked at the other women and turned back to the director. 'me?' i said. 'yes, carol go ahead.' 'i'm laura.' 'oh, sorry. for some reason i want to call you carol.'

after slating, the director asked us to turn to the right, and then turn again to face the back wall, which, quite expectantly, confused the living crap out of me. i did a 360 and turned completely around and then realized the actress and black-eye were correctly facing the back wall, so i quickly turned and i'm soooo sure no one noticed. once we got all the way around, the director asked if we all knew what zumba was. the actress and black-eye chimed in that they loved it and of course knew what it was. 'i've heard of it,' i said, referencing my conversation with black-eye moments before. the director explained that zumba was 'like traditional workouts, like jumping jacks and toe touches, but with a latin influence. yeah?' 'sure,' i said. 'great, i'm gonna play this music for 45 seconds and let's see what you got.' (what i heard was, 'when you hear music, please go bat-shit crazy.')

the actress and black-eye started with jumping jacks and seemed to know what was going on, so i started with jumping jacks too... and then something happened. i became completely unaware of time and space (and purpose of being there). maybe my brain took a nap. i'm not sure. but for some reason, i chose this moment in my life - this arbitrary moment at an audition for a curves commercial in a best western in nashville, tn - to absolutely go for broke. i danced, moved, jumped, spun, might have done the charleston, and kicked more than would ever be necessary.

then the music stopped.

the director went to the camera guy, 'did we get carol - i mean, laura?' she turned to me, 'you went a bit outside the frame...well, more than a bit. i tried to gesture to you to move back, but you were in your own world.' i didn't really have a response to this. they quieted and watched the footage, 'hmmmm, no that works. great. thanks ladies. we'll let you know by thursday.' (i do not expect to hear from them.)

and that was it.

all in all, about twelve minutes of my life and hours of driving down the proverbial tube.

so, i turned around and headed home.