In more ways than one.
It seems that after the holiday break drought/dirth/sahara-like wasteland of auditionlessness, things are getting back on track in the industry. Well – part of the ‘industry’. By that, I mean, I had three auditions today. After a couple of months of, well, er, none. They were all for commercials, one was for a voice-over and one I had to go home and change my pants for. That’s right, you heard me, I was wearing the WRONG pants. See – it’s Friday. And on Fridays, most of the civilized world – even the ones that have to schlep half-way across the city to get to their regular job after running around like some kinda pre-caffeinated auditioning FOOL – get to wear jeans. Except that, the casting director would not ALLOW me in front of the camera wearing jeans for this particular audition. An audition IN WHICH I WAS SHOT EXCLUSIVELY FROM THE WAIST-UP SITTING BEHIND A DESK. *sigh*
Never mind. In some ways, I find it odd that I had any auditions at all today. See, the Canadian actors union is on strike. If you are the least bit interested about what this all means, beyond vague mumblings about internet usage and such, go to THIS DUDE’s BLOG and check out his many in-depth and insightful posts on it ‘cause I couldn’t even begin to be that articulate on the subject. All I know is that today, while I was auditioning, John tells me that there were a bunch of actors on Queen Street, and through the SPACE office windows in the venerable CHUM/City Building, he could hear them banging drums and chanting “hey hey hee hee – you don’t get the ‘net for free”... Seriously. Hey hey hee hee?? That’s just embarrassing. Or maybe, it’s just that the writers must be on strike, too...
Ooh – a clever segue. Goody!
See – I just mentioned ‘writers’. SO. Speaking of WRITING... also Game On.
To wit: Yesterday I almost pretzel-ized myself with many pattings on the back, having (complete with the light-bulb-over-head moment) figured out a way to tell a particular story that has been languishing – LANGUISHING, I TELL YOU – at around two hundred messy pages (filled with some good ideas sadly wallowing in amorphous goo and bad ideas) that, until yesterday was behaving like the manuscript equivalent of a serpent eating its own tail. Now, however, after a stern talking-to and a bit of cheese, cleverly shaped like a rodent and attached to a stick with a string, I think I have convinced the wily reptile to behave and stop eating its own butt. Now maybe I can write this sucker properly (whilst avoiding weird-ass metaphors like the preceding, I promise. Sorry 'bout that).
Also Game On (sans clever segue, this time): HOCKEY!!
My beloved Leafs have won their first two games of a five-game road trip and tomorrow night they tangle with the vile - VILE, I SAY – Ottawa Senators. Yech-ptooi!! RELEASE THE BELAK!!! (that would be Wade Belak, for those of you who do not know these things – he is large and likes to punch the Sens.) RELEASE HIM!!
Go on. RELEASE!