because i definitely could have filled your glasses last week.

the tears.

they. would. not. stop.

last wednesday marked my biggest audition to date.

a soap.

a soap i had watched as i child with my mom, characters that were an integral part of my adolescence (my body image/self-esteem/formulation of marital relationships). it’s no wonder i’m on the couch once a week.

for auditions, usually i give myself an extra 45 minutes of time to allow for traffic, but for this one i padded an hour.

cut to the 405 freeway, 4 accidents, and 2 hours and 51 minutes later.

screeching my way onto the lot, i parked my car, and did my best chi-sprint through the studio {even though they wanted me camera ready glamour puss}.

i raced pass two big time stars lighting up prime time.

{i secretly hoped they’ll soon be saying hi to me in the halls}

i got up to the 3rd floor, anaerobic, folded in half catching my breath.

looking in the mirror:

the run actually has done nice things for my cheeks, and given my pretty wind-blown hair.


with a breathy voice (not fake fortunately) i walked into reception, gave them my name and character i’m reading for.

right away my stomach sinks. the sweet receptionist gives me the look the farmer’s hand gives the pig right before the sow goes to slaughter.

giant footsteps come up behind me and mr casting director comes out from the office.

what time was your appointment? he asks {the tone so bitter you couldn’t even sugar it up with a semi sweet chocolate chip).

9:45 i answer and then pathetically offer up my headshot and resume.

yeah, well it’s 9:52? you should have been here no later than 9:45. we’re already done.

and with that he spins around on his $400 converse sneaker, leaving my headshot in my outstretched beggar hand, and slams the office door.

if i wanted to be in the movies; this certainly felt like one.

so i did what the rejected actress would do in this scene:

i cried.

i cried, and cried, and cried.

i cried in starbucks. i cried in my car. i cried at The Grove. i cried in Nordstrom (although i always cry at Nordstrom-that place makes me crazy).

i cried in yoga.

i cried in the arms of my dear hunky hubby who said all the right supportive and encouraging things.

i’ve had the sweetest support around me, and i’m not discouraged (well maybe a little).

i know the whole when one door closes (and boy did it ever..right in my face) another one opens.

today i’m working on opening that next door.

i just have to get rid of these puffy eyes first.