Holding On

If I had a quarter for every time someone asked me why I haven't been updating my blog I would owe about $1.15.  


Lately, acting life hasn't provided the self deprecating humor and stories of embarrassment that you all have come to expect.  Let's get real about it, I haven't been on an audition in over a month. 


*GASP!* 


That's right folks, over 30 days of 'regular' life has ensued. No casting agents to impress, no crazy outfits to pull together, just me and Baxter practicing our british accents in the mirror (surprisingly Baxter is quite an English gentleman).


If we are going to keep getting real, it has sucked.  A very long and hard one.  And any actor who tells you otherwise is a dirty whore of a liar. (I'm sorry if my bitterness is seeping through the screen and getting your keyboard all sticky...) 


Things might get worse before they get better, I might have to resort to the fine art of street performing (who wouldn't like a hobo looking actor spouting out a monologue from Schindler's List?)


But if Wilson Phillips has taught me anything, I know that things can change, that things can go my way, if I just hold on for one more day...

Acting Montage

Recently, my acting experiences by themselves just haven't been as self deprecating as I tend to enjoy (and by enjoy I mean hate). But as I look back on the past few weeks, all those awkward moments together make for a rather nice bundle of humiliation. So with that, I give you a music-less awkward moment montage...

Casting Director: "Sarah, I need to you to look at her as if she is wearing the coolest thing ever" 

Me: *insert awesome look here"
Casting Director: "WOW! I really thought you were looking at Justin Bieber or something!"


18 Year Old Girl: "OMG. I got a call back to my first audition E-V-E-R!!!!!"
Me: "Oh yeah, I got called back for the same role."
18 Year Old Girl: "Oh...but arn't you like, older than me?"


Casting Director: "Sarah, I need you to look at both options and want them both, but can't decide on which one you rather have"
Me: *insert awesome look here*
Casting Director: "That was awesome! *laughter* I see you went all naughty on that!"



*fading* ...*fading*...*fading*...*and out to black*...

Don't Make Me Sing...

I love to karaoke. Don't be fooled by that statement.  This doesn't mean I can sing.  In fact, it is quite the opposite.  William Hung sounds like Michael Buble next to me (I have been wanting to reference William Hung for YEARS).  I like to karaoke because I like to humiliate myself - not because I can sing. 


At a recent audition I was tested on this statement. After walking into the room, the casting director asked if I could sing.  I smiled, and said "No, but I LOVE to karaoke!" He must have misinterpreted that with "Yes, I am an aspiring singer who dreams of being on the X Factor" (common mistake).


After the meat of the audition was over, he asked "Now, use the phone you are holding as a microphone and sing ANY song."


Lord love a duck.


I went through my mental song catalog and for whatever reason the only song I could remember was Journey's 'Don't Stop Believing'.  I hate myself for this obvious girl choice. After belting out the chorus - twice - I was finally stopped.  Thinking that the humiliation had come to a close, I was taken off guard when the casting director then asked "So, this imaginary band that you are signing in, what's their name?" 

WTF? Their name?


I quickly spouted out "The Impressionist".  


In my mind "The Impressionists" are a band of painters who go up on stage with their canvas and evoke the music through their brush strokes. Who wants to see that?!


At this point I'm thinking that the audition must be over - right? Wrong. The casting director then asks me a final question, "In your band, The Impressionists, what is your hit song called?"


Lord kill me now. (In your mind read this as Adam Sandler from the Zagats SNL skit)


I simply reply "Speechless".