Holy Shit

Holy shit. What just happened with that audition? First there was the jerk that asked if I’d gotten the (name of cable network inserted here) call back – because he did! Congratulations Mr. Lucky Pants! No I didn’t say that. What I did say, with what I’m certain was a tone of red hot embarrassment in my voice was, ‘No, I did not. Thanks a lot fuck-o!’ No, I didn’t say that either. Okay, just the fuck-o part. And then I listened to him go on about his call back. That was lots of fun. Then the casting director comes out and screams ‘HI HONEY!’ to the other girl waiting to audition and they scream and giggle about a shoot the girl just wrapped for an hour. AND we're auditioning TOGETHER! Me and the super petite, perfectly coiffed and made up, blond gift basket of a girl. OMG guys! This’ll be fun!

Kill me now. Seriously just do it. After I shove this massive burrito in my face to make the pain go away. HA! It’s funny because it’s true!!!

What is it with me? Am I antisocial, do I hate people? Because every time I get in an uncomfortable moment like that my entire being screams ‘GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!’ I can look at this two ways: 1) trying really hard to see any humor or good that can come from this experience 2) evaluating my entire ten year stretch in NYC based on this one audition for a hosting spot on a webisode . Of course the healthy choice would be #1, but I don’t know you guys, #2 is pretty tempting!

Let's just put it this way. I was competent and then at the last moment something in me said 'fuck it' and I totally bombed. If I’m completely honest with myself – I wasn’t interested in this audition. I studied the sides but I wasn’t invested. So I wasn’t able to sell it, which is the problem. Because I am an artist and so, I feel really super-duper fake when I walk into a commercial audition and it’s apparent that it’s not even remotely about the copy, but about the hard sell. Which is important, don't get me wrong. The American Marketplace could use a little hard selling right now. Some people are great at this and they are making a lot more money than I am, but I just can’t bring myself to go there. I wish I could. Otherwise I’d buy a Coke to go with this burrito. Okay, kill me now. No seriously - because a suit just walked by my cubicle and asked me when I’m gonna become permanent and told me I need my own name plate. LOL!!!