So I have successfully scored two auditions at the beginning of this year. One for Cabrillo Music Theater’s production of Little Shop of Horrors and one for an Industrial commercial for Canon. The music theater audition I got through myself through a simple phone call. The second, I got from my “sort of” manager (even though I’m not technically signed with her; used to be her intern).

My music theater audition was at night, and as I leave early feeling all the while very prepared and proud of myself, my car decides at that very moment to stop dead right off the freeway. Thankfully only a couple of blocks away from my destination, I call my friend Corey Donovan, who is the fastest driver I know, to come rescue me and bring me the rest of the way. At this time, I have twenty minutes before my in-time. It takes him ten. Five to push my car to a safe place and another five to whisk me to my audition. I get there right in time and sign in. I sing for the panel of directors, producers, and assistants. The pianist was slow on the rhythm of Gimme Gimme, but half way through he finally picked it up to the pace I originally wanted it.

I left happy with my audition; I did the best I thought I could do. Then I returned to my dead car, called AAA and waited an hour for help before I could go back home. My car will be the death of me, I just know it!

Audition #1: nearly late, did well, no callback.

My second audition was for the camera company, Canon. This was a much easier and stress-free audition. All I had to do was improv three different emotions/scenes focusing purely on expressions. Getting to the audition, however, was NOT stress-free. Let me just start out with Los Angeles sucks when it comes to directions and locations. I don’t have a GPS, so I rely on my Viking instincts and Google maps. In the past, I’ve had no trouble whatsoever finding places. But let me tell you! Los Angeles is definitely giving me a tough time!

Apparently as I exited the freeway, my destination was right around the corner. Google Maps tells me I need to turn right onto a street named La Cienega Pl. I am, however, on La Cienega Blvd., which is where I need to be, but I couldn’t seem to find the next street. After driving fifteen minutes further from the I-10, I finally call the Terminator (not the governor, but my manfriend), and ask him to plug in the directions into his GPS. Lo and behold, I need to turn back around. Mind you, I had left an hour early for my audition. At this point in turning around, I have twenty minutes to get to my audition.

As I make a Uee, I get stuck in some random road blockage called bumper-to-bumper traffic. OF COURSE!!! This takes me twenty minutes to get through and another five to find the warehouse/studio which is tucked down an unnamed alley behind a bunch of other unnamed warehouses. The only way I found it was making a calculated guess, the old-fashioned way of watching street numbers.

I walk in, dressed subtly as my role, a 1940’s farmer’s housewife, and sign in, apologizing for my nearly thirty minutes late to my viewing.

“You’re not the first,” the young man says. And at this point I didn’t really care. I just wanted to get it over with. Five minutes later, he ushers me in to an office room where two ladies were waiting. Both were extremely nice and encouraging, explaining to me the three scenes they wanted me to act out. The three scenes were: sitting in chair, upset about not having anything to cook for my husband and son and trying very hard not to show it; second, working hard and then noticing a beautiful sunset outside; third, just giving birth to my son and I am very happy about it.

All in all, this audition was a lot of fun because it was different from what I was used to. Albeit, a nice change of pace.

Audition #2: late, did well, got callback.

That’s it for auditions. In other news, I helped out with the premiere of Scott L. Schwartz’s Changing Hands (review coming soon), and I am also helping out with the gifting suites for the Oscar weekend. The most exciting part of that is being able to get a loan-dress. Saaahweet!

TIP: For headshots, make sure you have personality in your eyes and smile (or even your frown). You want different looks so that you can be submitted by your agent or manager having convincing different appearances. You do NOT want your expressions to be bland, plain, or boring. This is very important and many people make this mistake. It does NOT represent you well. These rules are mainly for commercial and theatrical. For print and modeling, it is okay to have the more glamorous shots (i.e. less expressive facial expressions).