Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Stop Your Whining. OK, Stop MY Whining.

So, I've had a couple of whiny blog posts about reevaluating my current place in the NYC Actor world.  Lots of "woe is me, I'm so pregnant, I can't audition for anything, wahhh wahhh, wah."

Yesterday, the universe said, "Shut up, already.  HERE."  And it handed me the coolest day I've had in a long time.  What happened, you ask?  Allow me to elaborate.

I had an audition with a kick-ass company called Exit, Pursued By a Bear (the name is taken from a stage direction in Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale), led by director Ed Iskandar.  The show is written by Jeff Whitty, who musical theatre people may know as the writer of Avenue Q, Bring it On- the Musical, and the upcoming Tales of the City, with music by The Scissor Sisters.  Yeah, that guy.  And not only did he write this show, he's in it- and...he was my scene partner for my audition.  So, that was pretty cool.

I had to walk through Times Square to get to my next auditions (details below), and it was a beautiful, sunny day.  It was kind of magical, and I really felt like an Actor on the Move.  Or, more accurately, Pregnant Actor on the Move with Sore Knees.  But it still felt a little like an episode of "Smash."

I recently re-joined Actors Equity Association (that's a story in itself, but the lesson you should take away from it is: read the fine print, and don't be dumb), and yesterday I finally got around to heading to some auditions at the AEA Audition Center on 46th Street.  Non-union actors are permitted to sign up for auditions on a waiting list, and are required to wait in an adjacent hallway with benches.  They're not allowed to use the AEA restroom, and instead must go to the nearby McDonald's or Times Square Visitors Center to relieve themselves.  To make matters worse, most Equity actors walk through the Hallway of Hopefuls to get to the slightly nicer, union waiting room, restrooms, and dressing rooms.  I've been one of those non-union actors watching the fancy actors stroll past, not making eye contact with us.  It was like we were asking for money on the 1 Train.  And yesterday, I was the one walking through the HoH, avoiding eye contact with the younger, hungrier actors.  And it felt good.  And a little bad.  But mostly good.

(For the record, I tried a new-ish monologue for one audition, and it was just so-so.  For the other audition, I went back to my tired-and-true, pick-me-up of a monologue from a play called Frozen, about a murdered kid.  It went great.)

After some dog-walking and snacking, I headed to the last meeting of my commercial class at One on One Studios- the class where we audition for some commercial agents.  I just typed this whole description of who the three agents were and what they were like, but I deleted it.  Instead, I'll say that after my audition, they were kind and complimentary, and THEN I told them I was pregnant.  I could see one visibly deflate and make a note on my resume.  One (whom I already knew) was politely congratulatory.  And the third, the only male (and French, apparently), asked how far along I was, then told me he has a client who just booked a spot and was VERY pregnant- they just put her in a big coat.  He said, "Oh, you have time still to work," and right then and there I decided he was my favorite.  

To top it all off, on the train home there were four older men singing "This Magic Moment," complete with harmonies and snapping.  I totally gave them a dollar.

So, it was a great day.  The Universe had grown tired of my whining, and showed me that I'm still talented and smart, and that there are still opportunities out there for a gal like me.

And then, in an effort to keep me humble, the Universe made my shins, knees, and ankles start to ache, reminding me that the cutest shoes are not always the best shoes.

I'll still take it.

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