The Danger of Wanting It

If you've ever been unemployed for any great stretch of time, then you know the worst part about looking for a new job is going on that great interview where everything seems to fit together, and then never hearing back from the job. Ever.

And if you have a friend who is an actor, and you've complained about this to them, you've probably gotten a knowing smirk and a nod. Because trust me, we understand how that feels. I've been going on auditions for almost four years and I can count on one hand the number of times I've been contacted when I didn't get the part.

It's not the fault of the auditioners, of course. Too many people audition or submit for each role for there to be time to call every single person not being cast. And these people don't have assistants, they're doing everything themselves. I know if I'd just spent 9 hours sitting in a plastic folding chair for two days straight watching two hundred bitches murder the Spoon River Anthology in a small windowless room, the girls not being cast would be lucky not to be getting kicked in the teeth for wasting my time.

That being said, I pride myself on being very good at keeping my eye on the ball. I don't come out of every audition waiting on pins and needles to hear that I got the part. I don't sit at home on a Friday night waiting for the phone to ring, I make sure I'm out at the club the very next night, mackin' it to the honeys.

But every once in a while I'll lose my shit a little bit. Some audition will come along and before you know it I'm imagining myself married to it, with a house on Long Island and a bunch of little babies running around the pool deck with those big foam noodle things. Such was the case last week, with an audition and callback that I thought went very well.

So well in fact, that when I went in for the callback, the director smiled, said "Hey sweetie, great to see you again," and told me that my read was excellent. Needless to say, I walked out and immediately called my boyfriend to tell him I thought it was in the bag. All that was left to do was put my feet up and wait for the phone to ring.

The next day I still hadn't heard anything, but I didn't worry. After all, I don't know how late into Thursday night callbacks had gone, they might be waiting a day or two to start letting people know. But I had thoroughly convinced myself that I would be getting a call, so I tried to get on with my life.

Unfortunately that meant checking my email obsessively every ten minutes.

By Sunday night, every good thing I'd done at the audition was forgotten and I'd convinced myself I was utterly wrong for the part. I was too young, and too mature. My read was too sentimental, but didn't get to an emotional enough place. My eyes were too blue, but not blue enough.

Monday morning I realized I'm an idiot. If I got it, it's because I got it. And if I didn't it's because of any number of other reasons that have nothing to do with me.

It is now Tuesday. A week from the initial audition. So now, I'm taking a deep breath, and letting it go. I'm moving on to the next thing, and keeping my eye on the ball.