Yesterday, I had a callback for a So Cal Honda commercial. After driving out to Santa Monica, and waiting with other blue polo shirts for over an hour, I went in. And after slating my name, this is what the director says to me:
"Oh Kate. You can't fool us. We see there's a pretty girl behind those glasses".... ie: you aren't quirky enough for the part of cashier girl. ie: you should probably just leave...
To which I respond with that weird, coy, shy thing that I do at all the wrong times. I give him a little giggle, bur really I wanted to run over there and squeeze him by the neck and say "do you know how many ugly faces I can make? Fuck you, commercial director. I am quirky. I am not the pretty one, ok? Get it?~~~~~ FUCKING GET IT!!!!!!!!????????
SO, after that bomb, I get back into my car, and begin to drive. This is one of those times in NYC where I would have jammed my earbuds in, plugged in some music that makes me want to cut myself, and light up.
This is simply not to be achieved in sunny California.
Ha, I used to say I moved to New York because San Diego was like a fucking BBQ at the beach every day. Turns out, still is.
As I comfortably cruised in my shiny ford focus, and desperately told my blue tooth audio to find me something drab, it just wouldn't. I even lit up a cigarette on the 10 East. That didn't help. That just made me feel like one of those trashies who smokes in their car. Not like in New York where when you're walking down a grimy, trash filled street, you smoking the cigarette just looks and feels glamorous. Especially when you're crying.
Anyways. I settled on my new favorite country station, 105.1 check it out, and decided I wasn't going to be able to reach that level of comforting wallow for the day.
It's hard out here in that sense. I miss my own rain cloud that I would drag behind me like a dead dog. I miss my spouts of tears in the middle of the afternoon. I miss missing California.
Guess I'll just have to saddle up to my man, enjoy our Los Feliz love nest, and stop complaining.
But just for kicks : Fuck you commercial director. I can be awkward. Just you wait.
