today I cuddled a stuffed dog on camera and other news from the acting world

I went to today's audition feeling utterly prepared to be a lovesick dog owner. I had the script memorized, I was emanating lovey-dovey vibes all over the place, and I was picturing an adorable black lab in my mind. What I wasn't prepared for was a 12" stuffed beagle wearing a sweater. Looking back I guess I was naive. I mean, if they want to know how you'll look interacting with a real, live canine, what better way than to have you snuggle a plush toy?

The casting director invited me to get comfortable in the cozy chair and to tell the camera just how in love I was with my dog (okay, I realize this sounds weird, but the concept for the commercial was actually kind of cute). But then the final moment: "react as your dog comes into the room and pick him up and love him." Here I am, doing improv in my acting class every Tuesday night, and yet I found myself strangely blocked about how to carry on with this little guy. It didn't help that as I kissed his shiny, vinyl nose, I imagined the germs of all the other dog-loving hopefuls jumping into my mouth. But I did my best, I suppose: I cuddled, I (as mentioned) smooched, I squeezed and hugged and sighed happily. Boy did it seem to take a long time for her to say "cut."

At Nancy Hayes Casting, the people behind the camera are uniformly kind, encouraging and patient. This woman gave me 3 chances to take her direction and do my best. Really, one couldn't ask for a fairer shake, when it comes to the audition experience. So why did I feel like such a dork today? There's just this undeniable x-factor with acting. The whole thing of being "on" or not. And today was a bit... blegh. Nonetheless, it's all experience, and I figure each rejection is one more notch on my belt. How many will there be before I book something? 30? 50? Millions of people have said it before me, but there is something distinctly nuts about undertaking an endeavor where your odds of success, ANY tiny shred of success, are so ridiculously slim. But hey, the joy of not being able to find a job (a straight job, that is) is that I've got nothing but spare time on my hands, baby. So wish me luck.