Red Eats her Words

Well now, my cynical actor had a good old vent last week and um, backpeddle, backpeddle... I got the part!! I guess despite the small pool of work and large pool of actors I did have just as good a chance as any.

Also of note, I even beat out the other redhead (she's super nice, confident, beautiful, always put together and acts for a living) who I see at most of the same auditions. I can confidently say I'm totally jealous of her and it was some sweet satisfaction to know that I won out.

I always say I am not good with commercial auditions but again I am eating my words because I have now filmed my first commercial. It's funny how sometimes things work out exactly too. The filming was set for Sunday which meant I didn't have to cancel anything or skip out on my full time job. Thanks universe!

Oh and one more confession, for Nic. My call location was the Holt. I didn't get to film there though but I did get to browse while I waited for hair and makeup... the shoes, my goodness, the shoes. I saw the same pair of Manolos from Sex and the City movie... you know the blue ones with the jeweled buckle? So pretty... so expensive!

And then I got to pick up fake poo about 50 times - it was awesome...

Red Reads The Road

It was listed as the top book of the decade by multiple sources, it won tons of awards and accolades and of course the mighty Opes touched it with gold and scored a seemingly impossible first television interview with the author.

Note for later: I should watch it... it might help.

So I read the book in two days, well more like one late night and the next morning - I am a bit of a speed reader which might have been to my detriment this time. This is one of those books where the words need to be chewed over thoroughly. I tried to go slowly, I really did. And yet, it was over in a flash and I was left scratching my head.

There was so much hype around this book that maybe I just expected more.

Not to say I didn't find it incredibly captivating and haunting, I did. Perhaps I just need a few more days to ruminate on what it all means... or maybe I should read it again.

And another note for myself: stop reading books/watching movies about the end of civilization when I'm home alone!! It makes for a sleepless night...

Red Knees

So I like to tell people that I have two colours, white and red. I know how to be careful in the sun and I adhere to the redhead code (Pale is the new tan!) so I felt fully prepared for my fantastic vacation to the equator. However despite my ironclad precautionary measures... well, I failed. Don't tell my dermatologist.

It was the whitewater rafting day - firstly we were told we couldn't bring anything on the raft. So we decided one person would bring a smallish bottle of sunscreen for all of us to reapply. We didn't even bring water... only to find out we could place items in a container at the back of the raft. I guess they didn't want us to overpack but really we were without two essentials - water and sunscreen. And we were on the river for a long time before we stopped for lunch, where I dutifully reapplied and loaded up on iced tea and watermelon...

Everything seemed fine and dandy even when we finished and were drying off and changing - I still looked white. And then on the two hour bus ride afterwards the heat started. By the time we stopped for our first pee break I knew something was horribly wrong. While the lower part of my legs were still whiter than white, under my capris my upper legs were glowing red and smoking hot - the damage was done. When we finally arrived at our next destination it was an epic burn on my knees and upper legs. Crapola!

Despite multiple solarcaine applications throughout the night by morning it was a second degree burn, maybe third... blisters were involved. They oozed... here's a look two days later. Click on the photo - it enlarges for a much better view!!)

The joys of being a blue-eyed, fair skinned redhead.

I can happily report however that I now have all new skin on my upper thighs and knees. And when we got to our last few days on the beach I managed to hold the line and there was no further red added.

Seeing Red

Hello, my name is Red and... I am an actor. There, I said it. They say the first step is admitting it... and for some sad reason, admitting you are an actor is on about the same level as admitting you are a drug addict, maybe worse. Because a drug addict can rehabilitate.

And so I ask - why is being an actor so bad?

Let's make a list (I love lists)...

Top Ten Things People Think When I Say "I'm an Actor":

10. You are weird - who admits to enjoy playing dress-up as an adult?

9. You have no concrete skills, we bet you don't even have a job.

8. Oh great, another annoying waiter...

7. Your resume of two community theatre productions does not make you an actor.

6. We bet you have a giant ego and constantly talk about yourself.

5. Sigh, you are going to make us pay money to watch some atrocious performance piece that is three hours of you crying over a broken wheelbarrow...

4. ... And then you are going to ask us what it meant.

3. You are vain and are likely to succumb to an eating disorder or the dangers of long term botox usage.

2. You are an unrealistic dreamer whose bubble is going to burst one day - and we don't want to be around when it does.

1. No fair... we secretly wanted to be one so you can't be one.

As I write this I realize that perhaps the title should be "Top Ten Things I THINK People are Thinking When I Say "I'm an Actor"... so maybe that means I'm messed in the head and should stop ragging on myself. Anyway, we digress...

The point is, I am a professional actor trying to make it in the very, very, "small pool" of Calgary acting productions and yesterday I had a commercial audition. Wheee... sigh.

Another room full of some of the same faces - even another redhead friend (who is super nice and pretty and I am totally jealous of her) - and a room full of kids with their parents... and the chick in charge was actually asking the mothers if they wanted to audition as well. WHAT THE F#$%CK! As if we don't have a hard enough problem getting the attention of casting directors but you throw in some desperate non-acting mothers into the mix as well. Obviously they think any random person can spout off their cheesy one line into the camera, so why did I even bother showing up? But I did show up, working through lunch so I could skip out of the office and into the cattle pen. For the love of my craft...

Once in the room with my adorable matching kid, the casting director didn't even bother to introduce himself - why hello, Mr. I'msoimportantandyouarepoo. And speaking of poo - I then had to pretend to pick up dog poo right before delivering the gem of dialogue into the camera lens. It's going to be a doozy... let's hope I get it!