Acting

downward katie

September 8, 2011

today i have an audition for yoga-girl…or rather yoga~instructor~girl.

should be a no-brainer. i’m a girl {woman? lady? broad? gal?}

i am an instructor:….pilates, spin, barre, some yoga, very little yoga actually, but i do take yoga.

sort of.

let me explain.

yoga is my thai food. i LOVE thai food. can’t get enough of it. but i have to be in the right mood for it. i have to be absolutely, stomach growling, starving for the curry, lime, lemongrass coterie of noodles pad thai’d. otherwise you’re forcing a well hydrated horse to drink. same with yoga, my body {with all her bruises and special needs} likes to thirst for the deep backbends and sweeping movements of vinyasa. and lately my limbs and spine have fancied more of a pilates rehab rather than the virabhadrasana 1 ilk, nevertheless i try to make a date, once a week with my sticky mat.

one thing i DO take away from all my downward dog sessions is a deeper sense of self, a truer heart, and an expanded, more inspired mind. my talented instructors always have the ability to unearth a meaningful, more authentic piece of my soul needing to emerge. for instance, during yesterday’s “practice”, while our hot-bodied, raquel welch-beautiful yogi, guided the rest of class into hand stands and arm balances, my use of profanity and name calling took on a whole new ardor and ingenuity that can only stem from yoga class:

bitch-face.

ass-head.

fuck-monkey.

scab-eater.

turkey-whore.

{in through the nose, out through the nose}.

and all this anger at someone i love and adore. someone who, out of my omgirl nomad leggings, i call a dear friend, someone i’d break bread with {fresh from the oven sourdough for me, raw ezekiel spelt for her}; a give a ride to the airport kind of friend, but ask me to throw my legs up in the air….and i don’t care how friggin nice or pretty you are….i’ll cut you!

there’s something about balancing on my arms and going upside down….i lose my head and my air. all i can feel is my left hamstring, right rotator cuff, my aunt’s cancer, court on wednesday, the 750, ooo dying in somalia, my neighbor’s brain tumor, my friends’ turmoil over their son, another aunt’s broken heart, my father. i need an oxygen tank to breathe.

the flow flies away, the fear soars in.

child’s pose.

if yesterday’s class told me anything it’s that i’m in dire need of my yoga. my brain is a bounce house of fret and un-focus, my body is  broken down and walloped.

i’m return to the mat a true humble warrior.

and scene..take II…

August 19, 2011

i promise not to make this blog into auditiongirl.com, but some things just need to be committed to paper post.

yesterday’s grocery-store mom audition was yet another episode in the twilight zone of the hollywood shuffle.

by now, i have accepted the fact that any part i’m up for has the adjunct “ethnic” specification written in the role description:

ethnic mom, ethnic yoga girl, ethnic driver, ethnic girlfriend, ethnic wife…..ethnic food.

yesterday’s casting was no exception. it was a bevy of dark-haired, dark-skinned, exotic looking honeys, and judging by the multiple countries represented, it would have made a kick-ass potluck.

from far away it looked like roll call for the united nations. in fact after our audition we all had to get back, and vote on what to do with syria.

the ad which will run in pakistan, china, india and singapore, will promote a very popular deodorizing body wash.

in the spot, ethnic grocery mom does her best to convince ethnic child to wash dirty, stinky self with said soapy sanitizer.

signing in, i was promptly given a call sheet where i listed my measurements and contact information. having received my completed and somewhat truthful form {cup-size wishes it were an A} i was then asked by the casting director, which language will you be speaking?

shall i give you more time to read that sentence again?

yes, which “language” would i be delivering my two lines in?

um, is english not an option? – i asked.

oh, it is. but most of the girls have another language they speak, and it’s easier to assign them to a country.

is jive a country? 

crickets.

giving me the once-over, 5 times(!), she decided i was best suited for the pakistani group.

if you’ve haven’t seen me in person let me just clarify, if ever there was a country in which i do not look to originate from, it’s pakistan. i had clearly pissed her off.

as i moseyed my way over to the pakistan bench, i couldn’t believe my eyes when i saw one of my fellow pakistani sisters sitting there with an actual, real live, diaper-wearing baby!

clearly, she was taking this “grocery mom” thing to a whole new level. she actually brought a fucking baby in! did she think this was going to better her chances?!  to show the director that she was, in fact, a real, post-partum mom!? i was furious.

had i known we could bring in our own props, i would have marched in a genuine, 4-wheeling, cart from albertson’s.

take that lady! you may be a real mom, but i’m a real muthafuckin’ grocery shopper; here’s my frequent shopper card to prove it. wanna see my coupons?

hollywood is a dog eat dog, dog eat baby world m’loves. you sometimes have to stoop. apparently this lady was stooping with her baby.

fortunately the director wasn’t having it. baby was not allowed into the audition. but rather than take the loss and skip the chance to hawk smelly soap, pakistan grocery mom #1 pleaded with the bench to watch her baby while she went in and read.

i’m not a mom, but i have been around actresses and one thing i don’t think i’d ever do is leave my baby with a bunch of hungry, hollywood competitors.

it didn’t really matter because none of these bitches {a room 20 plus} offered to help.

so, you guessed it, ethnic grocery mom #2 {ME} got my childless ass up, and watched baby “krishna” while his mommy probably stole my role.

we ran, we spun, we played with my phone, he played with the buttons on my sweater and tried to eat my ponytail. although he was too young to walk, he weighed enough to get his driver’s license.

by the time his mom came out i was a sweaty, drippy mess {i was now offering to buy the soap we were trying to sell}, my makeup had melted into my bra, and krishna had fallen asleep from exhaustion.

as grateful as she was, her gratitude is doing nothing for my aching back.

and as for the audition, it went great.

well, that is if it were running in hawaii.

weekend happy m’loves

a photo of baby krishna and i playing in the halls. he loved looking at himself on the camera-phone


and scene…

August 18, 2011

 last week’s adventures in groveling actress-land involved a last-minute {aren’t they all} audition for a fancy-nancy german car.

the role called for a woman in her thirties: ✓

casual style: ✓

ethnic: {pfft, whatever?} ✓

5’6”-5’9”: ✓

and a cute personality:…..it’s called acting.

with a face full of makeup, i lurched up the 405 freeway, my beast riding in the backseat, her smiling head out the window for the entire commute.

the waiting room consisted of 17 fellow 5’7”-5’9″, lindsay price look-a-likes; all frantically mastering high-eyebrows, the duckface model pout, and furiously arranging and re-arranging shaggy, layered, over-razored bangs, in the desperate hope that a 1/16th of inch follicle placement to the right or left, will make or break a 20 second interview.

print auditions are my favorite. they’re lightening quick. you’re in and out.

a couple of photographs face on, turn to the left, turn to the right, and you’re finished. what i imagine being arrested is like….without the cavity search….unless you’re auditioning for certain film schools.

this audition was a bit different. the casting agent wanted to film me talking “in a natural, normal manner.” so in order to get a “natural, normal” dialogue he asked me a “natural, normal” question:

“katie, tell me what sort of stuff are you doing with your summer? hanging with your friends? going to the beach?, movies?”

um, wut?

did i misread the number on the door? was this an audition for icarly?

how old does this guy think i am?

“what was I doing with my summer??????” suddenly I was back at villa park high, telling my 11th grade english class my june, july and august adventures.

“ummmmmm…….i’m like, totally going to the beach alot, and um, hanging out with my friends, and ummm, seeing movies and stuff, working on my keg stand at kristin’s house, my setting for varsity volleyball, and just being chill, ya know. but, like don’t worry, i’m totally doing my required reading and all, so it’s like way cool, and stuff.”

{heel-ball change, finger snap, smack palm……heel-ball change, finger-snap, smack palm}

or something like that…

 judging by the nodding of head as i gave my summer dissertation you’d think that i’d not only landed the spot, but that they were throwing in a brand new convertible too.

time will tell. as i said before it’s called ahhhhhct-TING.

today’s call is for grocery shopping mom. ethnic, of course.

i brushed up on my character by buying ralph’s out of their pink & white frosted animal cookies.

i like to be prepared.

thursday happy to you m’loves.

follow me
Copyright © 2020 goodniteirene. Theme by Maiden Sites