The Agony of Victory and the Thrill of Defeat

I think we have discussed the following rule:

There are two ways to guarantee yourself acting work:

1) Have an "I don't care" attitude
2) Book travel

You can't fake either one of these things.

I hope I don't need to write more about my BAD ATTITUDE. *stares pointedly for effect*, because if I do, well, it's just going to get worse. So, I've got THAT down.

Now for the "book travel" part. Last weekend I was scheduled to be on a panel at ARGFest-o-Con up in San Francisco. It was an event I was really looking forward to, so much so that I decided to head up on Thursday instead of Friday to give myself some breathing and visiting room.

Naturally, the Wednesday before I left, I had FOUR auditions. Four auditions in one day.... talk about "smiling as the shit comes down"... I spent the day as a mom with HIV, an evil mutant out to capture X-men, a militaristic fighter babe and a paramedic. The paramedic was a small part on a pilot, and as I walked across the Fox lot back to my car, I got the spidey sense about it...

because, you know, see fig: 1 where I am planning on going out of town the next day...

I figure, with my luck - they will have a producer session on Friday, and I will be forced to turn around and drive back to L.A. for the session, then turn BACK around and drive back to San Francisco just in time for the panel I am on Saturday morning. I fill my nano to the brim.

Friday rolls around and I am spending the nicest of afternoons with my friend and mentor Dee, when the phone rings that Barton Fink ring - my agent. "Congratulations!", he says, "You booked the part of the paramedic! You work next Thursday and it's the co-star rate for the day." WHOOP! I have dodged the bullet! I can enjoy myself in San Francisco and go to work next Thursday! I do a lot of jumping around... which is not easy on Potrero Hill.

Later that afternoon, I am waiting for hmrpita and ariock to come by so we can record some messages from Daisy Fructose for "Fest Quest", when my phone rings again.

They would like to invite me to the read-through - Saturday morning.

But I am on a panel on Saturday morning. At the exact time of the read-through. Now, not going to the read-through doesn't mean I won't be allowed to do the job, the read-through is a courtesy they were extending me - they most certainly didn't have to invite me. It would mean meeting everyone in a relaxed setting before being thrust on a set. It. would. have. been. awesome.

My agent calls them back to tell them that I am speaking at a con, and am not available. Which they are fine with.

But then comes the flurry of phone calls of agent and manager (mostly from me) saying, "am i CRAZY?!?!??!" Should I go back to L.A. to do the read-through, then come back to S.F. - having missed my panel, but still able to participate in the events of the evening????? Am I being incredibly stupid?

Manager says: It would look really odd if suddenly you were available for the read-through.. which was verbally slapping hysterical dumbass actress girl, and boy I needed it. Of course! It makes sense! I was just spiraling because I was presented with two cool things and both would have been a bucket of awesome. There are days where I do nothing! WTF!? It hardly seems FAIR. (Ironic since one of the lines I read in my four auditions on that Wednesday was "Life's not fair. Get over it." -- after a kill, natch.)

So it's all settled. The gnashing of the teeth stops and the zen sets in. Once you learn to deal with... oh wait - there's my phone again.

It's my agent. They cut the part. (insert Flintstones wah waaaaaaahhh here)

But, you know, they love me love me love me, I do amazing work, are going to call me in for something else - now pretend you hear the adults in Charlie Brown cartoons, because that's what I hear. I've learned in this business never to hold my breath. I don't take the insults personally, and I don't take the praise personally. I know what I think about my work and that's the most important thing.

The weekend is fun. Met a bunch of people that I was looking forward to meeting, caught up with friends, family, gamer friends, didn't vomit during my panel even though I was ridiculously nervous, and score one for me - didn't vomit all over the dais when asked at the last second to moderate another panel. Wore the wrong color for fluorescent lighting, am convinced I got free parking because of 'the girls', and best of all, beat the Cruel 2B kind World Champion in Wii bowling AS WELL AS topping Woody's best score by ONE point.

I had informed agents and managers to call me if necessary; that I would not have access to email while I was away - I don't have a laptop, and I haven't bought the Palm Treo 700 yet (but oh yes, it will be mine) -- so it was just on a whim on Sunday afternoon that I asked a friend if I could check my email - and there was a message from my manager's partner - an appointment back over at Fox for the same pilot - bigger, meatier role - MONDAY.

Now I have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to hot foot it back to L.A. in time to get to the Fox lot. Oh, and fyi it's a big sobby sobby cry cry scene. Meaty.

Let me just say something about big emotional scenes like this. They SUCK to do in auditions. I don't know how other actors work, but for me, I have to descend to this *zone* where I am living in the pain - just about to cry, but - and here's the kicker - I don't actually want to cry, because my fear is that since it is an audition, I will dry up on the spot - you know, because I got it out while PRACTICING. Of course I always work on the scene, but not too much or it becomes tired. Speaking of tired - I was exhausted enough from the weekend to just sit down and sob anyway, and now I have to drive SEVEN hours in the *zone*. I did not even drink a diet coke at a rest stop. *pauses and waits for this dramatic revelation to take effect on reader*

Having explained the concept of the *zone*, I can now add this fact: you don't want to be a DICK either. I can't just walk in and cry. You have to lift up out of the zone and quickly descend back in. I know these casting directors. I am glad to see them. They like my purse. I got it in Boston. I am thankful that they brought me in again. I declare this.

and we're off.

and I rocked it.

and I booked it.

okay well that's not true - but it looks so nice written out like that!! My agent calls the next day, "Congratulations! You booked it!" He tells me the role, credit, days I am working, rate of those days and ...

wait can we go back to what the role is??? He repeats it.

um... that's not the role I read for. It turns out I booked A DIFFERENT part on the same show. An even bigger and meatier part! Or so they tell me - and so I deduced by using the website actors get their audition sides for... I get a script tomorrow at my costume fitting...

OH! AND! Dork that I am -- When I had the first audition, I looked up the writers on the IMDb to get a feel for the style they might be looking for. I did NOT, like an idiot however, look up the actual show to see who was attached, cast-wise. Thank goodness, because I think I would have been nervous...

Behold! The Awesome!