Drawing a Line

in big black marker!

So there's a danger when you arrive in a new town where you're not used to auditioning and you really really want to get your first job and you're not quite established yet so you can't just walk onto the set of Ray Donovan so anything you can get on your CV (resumé) must be good right? Right?

So there's the Reality TV/Embarrassing Bodies ones, except this is LA so they read something similar to this (otherwise known as exactly this!) - 'Does the skin on your outer thighs sag? Share your stories with us for a chance to rid yourself of your saddle bags for good' 'Do you love Botox and Fillers? Have they made you the beauty you are today?'

Then there's the ones where you're just not sure what they want - 'Should be a really attractive model but have a big nose and small mouth or big eyes and small nose' 'Must have pale or sun tanned skin' 'No experience necessary however the more experience you have the better' 

Then there's the ones where you have a good idea of what they want even though they are not quite saying it - 'Topless on the floor in an empty apartment. Face will NOT be shown and you will be used again as another character later on in the series' 'Must be legal'

And then there's the impossible (I think!) - 'We are looking for an enchanting Dryad (aka a Tree Nymph) who is captivating, lovely and graceful! You must be comfortable with sitting on a tree branch while totally captivating people/the camera with your line delivery and timing'

Where do you even start? And in a town like this you know there's an enchanting Dryad with fillers who is more than happy to lie topless on the floor whether you show her face or not and you can definitely show her thighs as they won't be sagging. 

Me? I'm off to find a branch to practice on.

Reaching

and reaching and reaching and reaching.

Communication is a funny thing. I'm not just talking about the whole accent thing again but communication in general. Not only are we faced with communicating with people in a different country (although believe it or not we speak the same language!) but people in 'the industry' too. So not only is everyone 'super busy' and 'super important' they also don't communicate like we do. Forget the niceties. Don't ask people how they are. Don't say please but say thank you (a lot) and say you're welcome (a lot) and heaven forbid because you're from Liverpool you say 'Are you alright?' as some sort of greeting. That will be met with either confusion or a questioning as to why you don't think they look alright. It's tough. Getting through the day communicating with people here is tough.

The chances are by the time you've done your greeting on an email to the agent/casting director/industry person you are writing to and then asked them how they are they've already deleted it. I'm not sure if it's easier on the phone. I might have more of an idea if we had better phones. We can't get a contract as we have no social security number or credit history yet so we got monthly ones. The cheapest ones. Big mistake. Turns out no one can call us on them. Or is that because we are in the Canyon with no signal. Oh hang on we can call each other. In the Canyon. On the crappy phones. So me and the Scot spend most of the time calling each other to check our phones are working. They are!

And ok we don't know that many people here yet who could call us but we know a few. People who keep telling us to 'reach out to them' when we're in town and they'll meet up with us for a coffee or a hike or a juice (no one wants to get bevvies during Happy Hour sadly) Well we're in town. We're reaching out. Can anyone hear my phone ringing? Dammit you silly Scot stop calling me.

Scary Is the New Normal

'Try to do something that scares you every day.' Sage words of advice from my best friend today.

I think I'm off the scale!

Move to a city where the animals are on Prozac never mind the people - tick! 

Spend a night thinking what would be the worst thing for the mail man to find the next day: a dead dog, a dead skunk or a dead me - tick!
'Run' up and down the vertical, winding hills of Laurel Canyon (Dear Mr SUV Driver I would prefer to be on the sidewalk too. THERE AREN'T ANY!) - tick!
Go shopping for dog poo bags. Actually no tick here. I couldn't find them and I couldn't bring myself to ask. Still a scary thought though. Nice little job for the Scot upon his return.

Anyway I don't think that's really what she had in mind so last night I took myself to the other side of town on the bus (well 2 buses and no that wasn't the scary thing) I went to my first Agent workshop.

Now back home I'm a pro at this sort of thing but here I had no idea what to expect. She was a commercial agent so I had to prepare a commercial (advert) and the format was a Q&A with the whole group and then a one on one audition. Thankfully the agent lady was lovely and the experience, although scary, did me good.

When I was waiting in the room with people half my age who were overwhelmed because they had moved all the way from Sacramento and they were getting old now because they were 21 and were they going to find another Hollister to transfer their part time job to I had to remind myself that actually I've been in similar situations back home, it's no different out here. Maybe I'm a bit different to the norm out here but different is good, scary is good.

So today I applied for a theatre job and now I have my first audition lined up.

Maybe tomorrow I'll buy those poo bags!

What Do You Get When You Cross a German Shepherd, a Corgi, a Scouser and a Skunk?

A fresh kind of hell that's what!

So some of my friends think it's hilarious that I'm now a pet sitter and fair enough I've never had a dog as an actual friend and Billy (the family dog) dying on my birthday may have been him trying to prove a point but I'm hardly Cruella de Vil! I'm just not one of those people that like dogs licking their face and I think feeding them human food is a waste of money (and food!) Until now!

This dog actually hates me and the more she plays hard to get the more I'm actually trying to be her friend. To be fair (to me) she is timid and pretty much scared of her own shadow and she doesn't love my friend (who I'm going to call the Scot from now on) but I don't think she actually hates him. Me? A different matter. I've tried everything. I've given her hob nobs and turkey bacon. That's a big deal for me! She loves them, eats them and carries on hating me.

Last night me and this dog were home alone as the Scot was away. She likes being outside all day but comes in of a night. Until last night. Could I get her to come in? All the hob nobs and turkey bacon in the world were not bringing her in and then I stumbled upon my next problem. The skunk on the porch. An actual skunk. Barricading the way between me and the dog. If you ask me she called for reinforcements. She has friends in these hills. So the next hour was spent with me calling the dog to come in, trying to open the door to get her in and not let the skunk in at the same time who was happily on the porch eating the cat food right outside the door (yes there's cats as well!) I did think at one point maybe I should leave, check in to a hotel and let the animals take over the house. I couldn't decide if I was being secretly auditioned for some sort of Punk'd type show or Disney!

So we got through the night me, my dog and my skunk. I don't think the dog loves me any more this morning and there's no sign of the skunk. I'm not giving up. I'm going to win this dog over. I might even let her lick my face if she ever comes close enough.

Senior Moments

Oh this city! People come here and lie about their age all the time - the need to stay young and beautiful. So what's young in LA? Hmmmm about 17 I reckon, then it's all over. Today's revelations? A casting for an 'elderly, fatherly type actor, aged 40-60' Seriously?? Ok so this is LA and that's just in the acting world right? Wrong. Check this out!

Fake id and Botox anyone?

Let's Call the Whole Thing Off

So there's American and there's English and then there's Scouse! I haven't got a particularly strong accent so why do some people find it difficult to understand me? Ok so my well travelled friend who is British Caribbean (how are you going to pronounce that?!) speaks so well he probably makes me sound as common as muck but I do change my accent out here, I mean it's my job after all! Mostly I get it. If I want to order frozen yogurt I can't say yogit (Scouse) or even yogert (Standard English) as it is a different word and I'm all for 'When in Rome'. Butter is another one. It needs to be budder (I can't even type the Scouse equivalent!) But water? Water? Dear American friends, I'm in a bar or restaurant and I'm asking for water what else can it be??? Oh and just for the record no one can understand the posh island dweller when he orders that either!

Walking

and walking and walking and walking.

So apparently no one walks in LA. Well that's what they say. 'We're British,' we said. 'We walk.' So we walked. And walked. And walked. Harold Fry had nothing on us. We walked down Laurel Canyon to get coffee (please can someone build some pavements/sidewalks so no one dies. Well no one British. Or stupid!) We walked to West Hollywood to get breakfast (WeHo when you're in the know i.e. us from now on) We walked to the social security office in Hollywood (which was closed because we had been walking for three hours!) Then we walked back. Actually we crawled part of the way. Because we live in the hills. And we're British. And stupid.

Arrived! With a Bang.......

Literally!

So we did it, we finally did it. After two years of stress, money loss and dealing with less than salubrious characters on the road to the visa we met at LAX. How excited (& jet lagged) we were. 'Let's treat ourselves,' we said. 'Let's not get a cheap shared ride which will circuit the airport for an hour before going anywhere. Let's get a cab!' So we did. A 70 dollar cab ride. A cab which sped through the exciting, new to us, streets of LA. A cab which sped and smashed right into the side of another car outside the Beverly Centre (Center?) A cab driver who left us in the back of the smashed up cab for 40 minutes then sped once again through the now less exciting more scary streets of LA to finish the fare and took the full $70 from us. Welcome to LA!

Oh btw, we were fine! Thanks for asking :)