Christmas 2012 Recap

Since I neglected my blog for the month of December, I decided to picture montage my Christmas to segway into my New Years resolutions.   I had the most fabulous time at 21 Elm Street; it really doesn't get any better than family at Christmas.

Turtle Cheesecake bites

Alright, I had a little Christmas cheer in LA too:

A Beverly Hills Christmas

Marina Del Rey Boat Parade

Lessons learned:

1. Christmas trees in Beverly Hills are so sickeningly overpriced I had to give up grocery shopping for 2 months to purchase even the most pitiful oversized bush.   The same Christmas tree in Halifax cost $100 dollars less.

2. You're only as good as your gift.  And you cannot go wrong with scratch tickets for Yankee Swaps.  Score.

3. They call Yankee Swap parties "White Elephants" in Los Angeles.  I know. Morons.

4. Jews in Hollywood celebrate Christmas. ...but they still hate Jesus.

5. Latkes taste delicious! gefilte fish doesn't.

6. You're never too old to squeal over your pile of presents.

7.  Your parents are never too old to spoil rotten.  They squeal too if you do it right.

8. Eggnog induced hangovers are quite the stomach ache.

9. Just because someone gives you a box of See's candies, doesn't mean you have to finish the box that same day.  Remember, sharing is caring.

10.  Don't underestimate the power of a suburban housewife on the prowl at target. 

11. It's not Christmas without a few flurries. 

12. More importantly, it's not Christmas without your Mama, Papa and two dogs.  I cannot believe how blessed I am to have been raised at the farm that is 21 Elm Street.  Talk about a real upbringing by the two best friends anyone in the world could ask for.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight.

The Ten Commandments of a Southern Belle

Now I have never been to At Lana Geooorgia, nor have I ever said bless his heart aloud, but my character study class at Aaron Speiser Studio led me to delve into a world that has always captivated my curiosity - that of a Southern Belle.

With the help of a good friend with Southern roots and some fabulous literature, I have concocted my own rendition of the 10 Commandments of the Southern Belle:


1.  There are two books that should be worn down to the binding by the age of 12: your bible and your etiquette book.   Well of course and a copy of "Gone with the Wind."

2. A true debutante would never cuss in front of her Momma or Daddy, let alone out in a public forum. Nor shall she chew gum, smoke cigarettes or become visibly drunk in a social setting.

3. Confusion and helplessness are fabulous tools, use them wisely and often to get your way.  But stand your ground - a southern belle does not get double crossed, by anyone.

4. You must never leave the house without having your face on.  You never know who you'll run into at the Club -- or even at the local grocers.  This goes for keeping nails chip free and curls perfectly pinned. Your hair can never be too big and your smile can never be too white.

5. A belle is born with real pearls and a set of fine silverware. And God bless her soul if she ever tries to pass of faux pearls for the real deal.  That is a Southern federal offense.  As is wearing white shoes after Memorial Day or before Easter - brides are the only exception.

6.  Always be peachy.. to everyone you meet.  You never know who is related to your future husband. Plus we girls take pride in our manners and charm - it practically oozes out of my pores! (which I might add are minuscule due to my strict face washing routine).  Oh wait, there is one exception to this rule.  Yankees.

7.  You are a jesus lovin, bible school teachin' Baptist - but your second religion is football. Can I get an amen! 

8. Pull out your fine china on weekdays and entertain as much as possible - there is no occasion too small for celebration! And might I add there is no celebration complete without a batch of the sweetest of sweet teas! Furthermore, thank you notes are a must. And it is never too early to write one.

9. Maintain a balance between community service, home making and a profession outside of the home. We are well educated Delta Pis who are not afraid to juggle it all if we so please! Of course, it is completely acceptable and almost enviable to have the luxury to dismiss the latter and allocate more time for life's two guilty pleasures: shopping on Peachtree and trips to the beach. Personally.. too much work gives me the vapors.

10. Do not throw your sexuality around to attract a beaux. Act like a lady and you will find yourself a gentleman.

A "Breliant" Thanksgiving - The full thanksgiving low down

My boyfriends last name is Breliant - it's funny.

So my mom came out for Turkey day and in an effort to show of my domestication, i decided to take on the task of Thanksgiving dinner.  And not to inflate my own head, but this was a Martha Stewart esque day.  Actually, I retract that.  This surpassed Marty S - and that's not an exaggeration.  Best thanksgiving i have ever enjoyed, and all thanks to me.  (with a little help from Matt I suppose). 

TURKEY:

brine it overnight.  As in buy the most expensive turkey they have in the store (it's worth it), rip out all the gizzards and other filthy stuff inside, and leave the turkey submerged in a pot overnight with ice water, and kosher salt.  It's as easy as that.

Next morning, preheat the oven to 315, give the patted dry turkey an olive oil and butter massage and sprinkle with salt, fresh rosemary, thyme, basil, garlic, pepper and sage.  Stuff the bad boy and fill the pan with a cup of chicken broth, carrots, 1 chopped onion, and mushrooms.   Tie up turkey legs with kitchen ties. cook 20 minutes per pound of turkey.  (if you are on a time crunch do 350 at 12 minutes a pound) open oven each hour to baste turkey. Cover with tin foil until last hour.  For the last hour only keep the wings covered in tin foil. 

STUFFING:

Night before cut up a sourdough loaf into crouton sized bites, drizzle with olive oil and add garlic.  leave covered overnight. 

Grill garlic sausage in pan.  Cut into tiny bits. cook with one chopped onion. 

cook sourdough pieces on 350 for 10 minutes 

combine bread and sausage/onions (with the grease!) with: 1 egg, rosemary, sage, thyme, garlic, pepper, 1 cut up green apple, craisins, and chopped pecans. 

MASHED POTATERS:

Boil 8-10 peeled and cubed potatoes.  While still hot beat with 1 stick butter, 1/2 cup reduced fat milk, 1 package reduced fat cream cheese, cut up chives, 5 minced garlic cloves, 1/2 cup parmesan cheese, ground pepper. 

CRANBERRY SAUCE:

Boil 1 cup water, add a bag of fresh cranberries and cook for 10 minutes.  After 10 minutes reduce to low heat and add 1/4 cup flavored brandy (I like peach), 1/2 cup orange juice, 1/4 cup maple syrup, 1 cup sugar, chopped pecans or macadamia nuts, 3 tsp cinnamon, and whatever else you have: chopped pear, shredded coconut, blackberries, chopped dates, pistachios, mandarin orange slices, really whatever tickles your fancy. 

PUMPKIN PIE:

1/2 can of Libbys pumpkin puree, 1 cup of sugar (i like half brown half white), 1 tsp vanilla extract, pinch of salt, 1 can condensed milk, 2 eggs, 1 tsp ginger, 3 tsp cinnamon.  Pour into prebaked graham cracker crust. 

Cook for 15 minutes at 425, reduce to 350 and cook for 40 minutes. Cover edged of pie with tin foil.  

Refrigerate for an hour before serving and don't you dare serve without whip cream. 

Thanksgiving in Los Angeles

Seems rather moronic to opt out on my hometown, THE land of our forefathers where the pilgrims landed and the first thanksgiving meal was enjoyed, in favor of another superficial turkey day in LA, but rising fuel costs and a suppressive work schedule has left me no other choice.



What I'm usually thankful for in good ol' Plymouth MA:
-family
-friends
-health
-food on the table


What I'm thankful for when observing Tday in 90210:
I'm thankful for:
-interns
-instagram filters that make me look tanner
-essie nail polish
-being a real blonde
-the gas app that shows me the less astronomically priced gas station in my area
-trader joe's wine selection
-push up bras
-living in a place where no one calls you out for bullshiting because they're too self absorbed to really listen to your story anyways
-george clooney
-that my car isn't registered in my name.. enabling me to throw parking tickets out the window
-refinery29.com
-vip lists
-sprinkles holiday cupcake
-tree lightings that start in October
-Siri
-no really, thank you Siri, I wouldn't be here without you
-my twitter followers
-friending enough creeps that no uploaded photo goes unliked - no matter how obnoxious it may be
-not being knocked up yet

Well that'll do for now.  I'm exhausted from all that time spent outside of my comfortable state of self glorification.

...For the record, thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays.  I adore cooking and relish in the chance to take center burner and show off my kitchen skills.  But the real beauty of Thanksgiving is the ability to leave the technological nightmare we've wrapped ourselves in and enjoy the company of the people you hold dearest to your heart.  I am so lucky for the two most loving parents, a devilishly handsome boyfriend, and a slew of friends and family that haven't caught on that i'm not worthy of their steadfast support, love and comical relief.

I am so grateful that i feel this insatiable passion for life, and that I'm genuinely excited to wake up each day and make a difference in my life - and hopefully the lives of one or two others.

Healthy Pumpkin Roll!

CHELSEA'S (taste of home's) HEALTHY (ok, less fattening) PUMPKIN ROLL

Pumpkin roll is my absolute favorite fall treat.  Really it doesn't get much better then a slice right out of the fridge with a cup of coffee or a glass of red wine.  I love how the consistency of the sweet cream cheese frosting compliments the texture of the rich flavored bread.  No one makes a pumpkin roll like my aunt Christine, but fortunately for my waistline her recipe is back in Boston and I'm left to try out (with a few tweaks) the healthier recipe I found in Taste of Home.

Ingredients

• 3 eggs
• 1 cup sugar
• 2/3 cup canned pumpkin (Libbys, of course)
• 3/4 cup flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• pinch salt
• filling:
• 1 package reduced fat cream cheese
• 2 tablespoons butter - softened
• 1 cup confectioners' sugar
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• chopped walnuts (i suppose 'optional' but your a fool if you dont add em!)

Directions

• Line baking pan with greased (as in you spray it!) wax paper & heat oven to 375. 
• Beat eggs and gradually add sugar and pumpkin until sugar is nearly dissolved. 
• Combine the flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt and gently fold into pumpkin mixture. Spread into prepared pan over the wax paper & bake for 13 minutes. 

• Cool for 5 minutes. Turn cake onto a kitchen towel dusted with sugar. Gently peel off waxed paper. Roll up cake in the towel jelly-roll style, starting with a short side. Cool completely (leave it for an hour at least!)
• Beat the cream cheese, butter, sugar and vanilla until smooth. 

• Unroll cake; spread filling evenly to within 1/2 in. of edges 
• Roll it up again and press in the walnuts!!  Then roll it into tin foil and refrigerate for at least an hour. 
• Cut slice and enjoy :)

Oatmeal Trail Mix Cookies!

Chelsea's original not-healthy-in-the-least Oatmeal Trailmix Cookies! 

Thank the heavens that bathing suit season is behind us and we're (as in the entire population of Southern CA) is pretending its fall so its too cold to do summer activities despite the 80 degree days. 

As a celebratory kick (or should I say COOK!) off, I begin my fall festivities with oatmeal trailmix cookies.  An original recipe only because I didn't have the right ingredients to make my normal cookies - I was quite happy with the turn out. 

Ingredients: 

3 cups old fashioned oats

3/4 cup butter

1 cup sugar (preferably light brown)

1 egg 

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp cinnamon

3/4 cup flour

pinch of baking soda

pinch of salt 

Optional deliciousnesses: (pick 3-4)

1/4 cup pumpkin seeds 

1/4 cup sweetened craisins 

1.4 cup goji berries 

1/4 cup raisins

1/4 cup dry roasted soy nuts 

1/4 finely chopped walnuts 

1/4 cup choc chips 

1/4 cup macadamia nuts 

1/4 cup shredded coconut 

1/4 cup toasted pecans, finely chopped

1/4 cup cashews, finely chopped

1 scoop vanilla or banana flavored protein powder

Directions:

oven to 350 

Beat butter and sugar, add eggs and vanilla extract.

In separate bowl, combine flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon.  Add mixtures together and stir in oats, nuts and raisins (and chocolate chips if you're feeling crrrrazy). 

Scoop out heaping tablespoon sized dough and roll into delightful balls, plop em evenly onto the ungreased cookie sheets and flatten lightly with fork. 

Bake 14 minutes.

***To make healthier:::: if i had these ingredients I would have subbed out 1/2 butter for either applesauce or greek yogurt (honey flavored would be delicious!) 

A Case of the Wednesdays

Wah, I hate Mondays.  Boo hoo, it's Monday.  woe is me.  sniffle sniffle. drowning in my sorrows.

What are you complaining about?  You just got a weekend, who cares if its Monday its the first day back after a restful (or epic) Sunday Funday.  I'll tell you what the real week killer is: realizing it's only Wednesday.


On this all so dreadful Wednesday-eve, I'd like to rant about nothing in particular.  Bare with me until Friday when I post butterflies and rainbows on my wall while I sip champagne in the office (what it's an industry standard!)  (okay, maybe its not.. but I lead everyone in the office to believe so, don't you dare blow my cover Nett Brewton).

Without further adieu, Wednesdays rants:

1.  Are trail mix manufacturers fucking joking with their serving size?  Me, "omgosh trailmix, what a nutritious and healthy snack!" Satanic trailmix company, "serving size: 1/2 m&m and one peanut with the salt washed off, servings per little baby baggie: 50"

2. Sneaky English accents who trick you with British charm and don't laugh when you obnoxiously quote "you sound like you're from London" should be deported.  There, I said it.

3. Why does my laundry machine only take quarters?  And why 5? Isn't that excessive considering I (my boyfriend) pays an astronomical amount for this outdated apartment.

4. So what I love Christmas, sue me.   I'm going to listen to Christmas music when I want to and I'll be damned if anyone (my boyfriend) keeps me from decking the halls the first week in November.

5. Enough with the political posts.  I bet half you morons didn't even vote.. you just think its trendy to post about it on twit-insta-book.

6.  It worries me that my boyfriend plays video games where he shoots innocent dears and bunnies then says, "baby i just got anothah bambi!"

7. It worries me that more (all) of my calories and paycheck go to wine before they go towards food.

8. Why is cheese bad for you?  And more importantly why is it so friggin delicious?  And even more importantly why does a trip to the Beverly Hills Cheese Store cost so much that I can afford to do my laundry for 3 months in my overpriced washer and dryer after a visit to their Cheese Dynasty.

9. Why the hell doesn't anyone get the reference "smarter than the average bear"?  Were you neglected as a child?  i don't get it.

10. No woman over 23 should wear hot pink anywhere on their body. But.. No.  nowhere.

On that note, it is now 1AM, and I wish you all a pleasant Thursday.

A Halloween in Hollywood

Please forgive the following posts for the abundance of exlamations caused by an extreme fructose overload.

For my first ever Hollywood Halloweenie, I will say that I am quite smitten with the experience.  Granted my expectations were kind of low - knowing nothing will compare to actually growing up in an honest to god haunted house surrounded by cornfields a mere half hour drive from Salem, MA - but really, Hollywood does a 4.6 star job in delivering ghoulish delights. 

It all began a week ago at our 'LA family' Halloween spectacular.  The night was complete with pumpkin carving (arguably one of my only talents), pumpkin pie, a copious amount of wine and pasta and a trip to the LA haunted hayride by the bowl.  While there was no formal pumpkin judging, it is clear from the photos below that my "wicked" pumpkin displayed not only creative genius but a fine craftsmanship.  As for the haunted hayride, it was theatrical and a lovely display of out of work actors in fancy costumes prancing around in even fancier 'sets' throughout the ride.  Dont get me wrong, I squealed and screeched through the entire $36 dollar for 30 minute hayride, but this is in no way a comparison to the hayrides in MA. 

Which is a lovely segway into Knotts Scary Farm.  11 mazes plus one that you pay 60 for that is interactive (i.e. the creeps who chose to work at a place where they dress up as killers and scare children are paid extra to touch you), all the rides and food vendors stay open and the park is crawling with zombies, goblins and vampires are just waiting to scare the life out of you.  I was scared, but not I-cant-breath-if-another-masked-man-spooks-me-i'm-going-to-pee-my-pants-and-get-into-the-fetal-position-scared like I thought I was going to be.  Albeit, I was impressed.  To give you a taste of how over the top creative these mazes get - one maze was the story of Pinocchio, except his wish wasn't granted and he didn't become a real boy so he hacks up good ol Jepetto, the fairy, and everyone else, wrips off their skin and sews it to his wooden body so he can be a "real boy".  Let that sink in.   On another note, the churros might be the best I've ever had and they come with knotts jelly dipping sauces. bomb-a.

Spent a full 12 hours partying at the Roosevelt on Sat.  It was foolishly over crowded, the table arrangement was horrific and girls had lost all creativity and gone simply as sluts without even putting the effort in to slap on a pair of cat ears and color their noses pink. I broke the mold by cleverly sewing my own I dream of Genie costume by hand. (applause not only welcomed but encouraged if you plan on continuing reading my informative halloweenie post). ((no really, clap at your computer)).  Honestly if we hadn't been with guys so kind as to rent two cabana rooms overlooking the pool, Halloween at the Roosevelt might have been a bust. 

Instead of catching an hour or two of sleep, i decided to go straight from partying to drinking poolside at the Roosevelt Sunday morning (which consequently was my 25th birthday, which explains the quarter life crisis).   Cocktails, a brunch and some present opening later and we were off to the house parties of all parties.  If i had any followers I really wouldn't be able to talk about it, but lucky for me my blog remains to be un-read. 

Picture this.  a mascarade ball in a 30 dollar mansion where Sebastian Ingrosso and Alesso were BOTH flown in to dj.  I can't allude to the crowd, but it was epic.  Of course I couldn't enjoy any of it because someone forced (politely asked) me to take 3 tequila shots in a row after i had drank my weight in champagne.  sigh.

And now it is finally Halloween night, and I just finished 1/2 lb of the See's candy chocolate box I got for my birthday (really, I actually ate 10 pieces of the 20 chocolates.. in one sitting - and yes, I will be complaining about this for the next 2 weeks of blog posts while I juice fast and work out like a lunatic). I do miss the foliage, actually haunted houses, and maze workers who aren't actors and wont be sued if they touch you mistakenly, but I feel completely satisfied with my Hollywood Halloween.  

Now let the Christmas music ring!

Ohhh its Halloweenie again.

Unfortunately my parents decided to conceive me 9 months prior to all hallows eve, which left me in the most unfortunate birthday celebration circumstance. 

Every year my birthday is linked to Halloween, leaving me no other choice than to unleash all of my creativity and come up with a clever AND flattering outfit. 

And the montage begins. 

Age 18

it said slippery when wet on the back! heh heh  

Alright, so perhaps senior year of hs as a bunny and freshman year as a cat wasn't really chipping away at the creativity block, but my zoro?  and the skunk?  and the mime! classics!  Which leads me to year 2012.  The year of the dragon.   And I am awash of creative genius.  So here is my word vomit of potential costume outfits (mind you I ONLY make my own - even though it always cost me more than buying them).

circus ring leader 

dolphin trainer 

penguin

robin hood

usa gymnast 

skeleton

peacock

canvas/famous painter

beetlejuice

knight

chaquita banana lady

pop eye

cruella de ville

oscar the grouch 

i dream of genie

Gumby

eskimo 

planters peanuts guy

watermelon

Strawberry

Miss Piggy

gypsy  

tin man

randy savage 

I dare you..

Who were my parents kidding when they declared my 160k in debt for a degree in Psychology and Spanish was a waste of hard earned money!  Por favor!

Lets back up.  I've been taking classes at Aaron Speiser acting studio.  More so as an escape from the hectic reality of agent life than for acting chops, but nonetheless the classes are enjoyable.  A natural student at heart, I over-study for everything, would take up residency in a library for fun, and always raise my hand obnoxiously high (I've even been known to do the throat clear while I bounce in my seat and silently beg to be called on - I know, so bad).  I'm an academic over-achiever, and damn well proud of it (not to brag but I graduated with a 3.9gpa.  Would have been a 4.0 if I weren't a baller and didn't take all honors classes).  Anyways, back to the point. 

So Aaron's philosophy is modeled after Uta Hagen's novel "Respect for Acting".  I'll go into depth on this fascinating approach later, but basically the actor needs to identify with their character and make sense of his or her scene and script objectives through an understanding of common humanity.  People are all similar in their drives, wants, desires, motives and needs. The actor must use his or her past experiences, sense memory and understanding of human nature to become his character on stage (or set). 

These past few weeks I've tried to really keep my eyes open to human behavior and I've become nearly addicted to analyzing it.  Everything from the feeling of waking up from a deep sleep to watching children at the playground interact to seeing a hierarchy at the office makes me more and more eager to delve into a script and put some real work into developing a character.  

My challenge to you is to observe how you interact when you are out drinking at a bar or club.  Take note of your mood, body language and inner thoughts.   

Now go out again, but without a drink in your hand (or anything in your hand) and no cell phone.  Now how different do you feel?  

I rode my bike to Octoberfest.  Not because I'm trying to give off the granola-chic vibe (which I am) but because my boyfriend gave away the car he was letting me drive to his 17 year old brother.  A dead cell phone and no cash for beers, I felt like a circus freak.  I cannot believe how much of a security blanket my cell phone is.. and how uncomfortable chatting up someone new without a drink in your hand can be.  

What does this teach us about acting?

The power of props?  The power of social norms?  Sense of belonging?  Alcohol as a clutch?  I'm not quite sure yet, but I wanted to throw my challenge out to the hundreds of zillions of dedicated blog followers (ok fine I don't have any followers yet, but this isn't twitter! Its hard!) and see if this is a common phenomenon or if I am alone in my overdependence on my cell and a vodka soda with lime. 

Trust issues

From the decades (2.5) of infinite wisdom I've accumulated from observing human nature (better known as stealth people watching), I've formulated the trustworthy test*


*Patent pending.


You cannot trust someone if:

1. They eat the American cheese that comes individually wrapped in plastic

2. It says "sexy" or "baby" across the ass of their sweatpants

3. They have a pet ferret

4. They chose to plaster a close up picture of their face put on their debit card

5. They live in Hollywood.  By choice.

6. They have a Canadian accent but don't play hockey

7. They don't high five you for a teenage mutant ninja turtles reference

8. They drive a hybrid hummer

9. They don't have a middle name

10. They don't get their fries animal style at in n out


This is all based on my keen human observation expertise and should not be taken lightly.  You're very welcome for this gift.   More to come.

Observations from the agents desk

I thank God at least twice a day that I'm not working as a fashion model agent.  And here's why.

As a fashion agent in Beverly Hills you scrutinize every detail of underage girls bodies and faces.  And then tell them their flaws. 

You're right, they're supermodels they don't have flaws.  So you find some.  Here are the most common:  

"have you considered having your nose done?"

"who does your hair? fire them"

"your skin is just retched, you need to clear up your acne" 

"are you going to the gym?  are you really? it doesn't look it"

"girl, I hope you're being serious about starving yourself" 

"I know someone who does great boob jobs" 

"what are you doing later? hm, why not the gym instead? cardio! cardio! cardio!"

"what happened to the rest of your eyebrows? throw out your tweezers"

"you look pastey girl, get some sun!"

"your skin is soo orange, it's going to be leather by like yesterday. stay out of the sun."

"your outfits... different"

"when you tilt your head down your forehead looks massive"

"when you tilt your head up your nostrils look massive" 

and it goes on and on and on.  These girls are 14-19 years old. More to come later this was just a brief complaint while I scoff down peanut butter cookies and fret over my growing out roots. 

So you want a hollywood talent agent? Listen up.

As a misguided but hopeful aspiring actress, I have made countless mistakes on my quest for stardom.

But as a commercial and theatrical talent agent at a boutique SAG franchised agency in Beverly Hills, I have witnessed some truly dreadful attempts at seeking representation.

So here is my gift to you.  Straight from the mouth of an agent whose rejection list is tenfold in comparison to the slim number of talented actors and actresses that make it onto my roster.

______________________________________________________________


1. Unsolicited emails and calls are just that.  unsolicited, and therefore frowned upon.  Send me your headshot with a resume stapled to it and a cover letter with references.  Keep it short and sweet, but for god sakes sell me on why I should waste my precious time watching you fumble through some god awful monologue that I've already suffered through 4 times that week.
  
     Try this.  Dear [agents full name], My name is X and I would love to be considered for representation with [talent agency].  I want you to tell me who you studied with, what roles you've landed, your most recent or impressive project and anything that makes you unique (i.e. languages, stunts, race car driving, etc etc etc).

2. well well well you didn't listen did you (you terd) and went for the unsolicited email to save money on headshots and stamps.  Fine, well you better get the agency name right in the email body and you better attach a link to a reel, imdb or at least a youtube video that will make me giggle.   And don't think I'm not annoyed that you're already having difficulty following instructions.

3. Act grateful and honored that I have called or emailed you for an interview.  Thank me and thank me again.

4. Show up on time.  And on time is exactly 10 minutes early.

5. Dress business casual, get your roots retouched and cover your tattoos.  I can hear you now whining.  But I'm an actor, I'm expressive and an individual not bound by the conformity of business attire.  No, you're lazy and your acting teacher inflated your head with nonsense.  This is an interview for a job and I'm offended by you're unkept hair, stretched out vneck, and, gasp, flip flops.  Let your "vibe" come across in your photos.

6. Show up with a headshot and resume stapled to the back, I want to know I can send you out on auditions and you'll be prepared.

7. Imbecile. Your headshot is not 5x7 photos your friend snapped of you at a cookout.

8. No really.  bring those and I will not only kick you out of my office, but I will spend the rest of my day cursing your stupidity.

9. Oh you have a full time job, 3 kids and a mother in law that sucks you emotionally dry?  Um, I feel bad for you, but you've just been rejected.  Lets try again.  "I am passionate about acting and building my resume and career.  I think of this as a full time job and have absolutely no obligations that would keep me from attending auditions.  Furthermore, I am extremely tech savvy and will confirm my ability promptly on LA casting and Actors Access"  I might not even like you, and your resume may be painfully bare, but this declaration would make me absolutely giddy with happiness.

10. DO NOT look me in the eyes while performing your monologue.  Creep.

11. Don't drone on and on.  Answer my questions concisely and honestly, then let me do the talking.  Did I mention that I don't care how much you despise your mother in law?

12.  Compliment me.  Preferably that you can't believe how young I am with my list of accomplishments.  But I'll totally take "love your earrings!"

13.  Don't be afraid to say you're shopping around at other agencies.  Now you've got me questioning that I zoned out 8 minutes ago.  I can't have my competition steal you! You're the only actor I've had all week that dressed appropriately and brought in a legitimate headshot.  Plus you complimented me!!  I might just have to offer you a contract right now!

14. Above all else, breathe.  If you're nervous with me how the hell can I trust you to audition in front of much bitchier casting directors?  Be prepared, cordial and prompt. Know your strengths and accomplishments well and brag about them!  I already like you enough to cut into my overwhelmingly busy day, so don't sweat it.  Just smile and be yourself! :)

True Life: I survived a week of interviews in Los Angeles (barely)

So ends the week of interviewing hell.

Well, to be exact, it has been two weeks of verifying that Assumption College is actually an accredited place of higher education and that Halifax, MA is really so small that we don't even have our own High School. 

After flying home for uncle John's funeral I was exhausted and empty.  I spent days shooting my resume off to everything from bikini photo shoots to travel jobs to fundraise for non profits.  All in all, I set up a week of speed interviewing that left little time to digest or relax.   

I couldn't have asked for a better feel good kick off to my week as working for a Lamborghini event for Kids that have terminal illnesses or are severely handicapped.  While roasting in 90 degree heat on Hollywood Blvd on a Sunday afternoon, kids who were imprisoned to their wheelchairs, breathing apparatuses and even feeding tubes were afforded the adventure of a lifetime; taking a spin in a Lambo in Hollywood.  I felt guilty being paid considering the picture taking and pep talking was rewarding enough, but the $75 for an hour and a half of my time fueled my gas tank for the week to come. 

Monday morning started with an info session at the Beverly Hills Playhouse to see if I'd like to register for classes followed by a radio hosting audition in Hollywood.  The playhouse was a fabulous experience, the radio audition.. hmm well perhaps if I could booty drop and had Tupacs naht dead tattooed across my chest it might have gone a smidge better. 

Which brings us to Tuesday.   Interview at ICM, where I got my first taste of corporate crazies, an audition for representation by two Jewish guys working out of a closet in Beverly Hills (and they STILL didn't take me!), and auditing one of Anthony Meindl's master acting classes with 30 other hopeful starlets. 

Lovely Wednesday left me with a rejection from a Gilt fashion show gig where all I would be doing is measuring men for suits (really, why didn't they chose me?) followed by a rejection from a fitness company in Manhattan beach mumbling something about needing more defined calves. 

Before my morning coffee on Thursday, I was at William Morris for a reality check, then off to Katalyst for a casting associate position interview, and lastly a role in a student film at USC that I got 15 minutes away from only for my co-star to call in with some dire excuse that enabled her from making the shoot.

Thank God it's Friday because I get to meet Ted Chervin's two assistants for the best and most relaxed interview of my life... well except they alluded to how painful working as a bitch to someone as powerful as Ted really is.  

A few glasses (bottles of wine) later and it is finally Saturday, but no resting here.  An interview with a talent management company only for them to offer me a commission only position and then a hosting audition where I read like I was doling out death sentences.. not light hearted shorts on traffic back ups and celeb news. 

Sigh. 

Lessons learned:

1. If you're interviewing to be the assistant to the head of TV at ICM, you probably should have your favorite television shows.. and why.. on hand. 

2. Your lint roller should be your best friend.

3.  Wine cures even the most embarrassing auditions.

4. If you have to shuffle in your heels to take forward strides.. chances are your heels are too high.

5.  If you're going in for a fitness audition, maybe do a sit up or two beforehand.  Oh, and maybe put down the bagel, just saying.

6. It's literary department, not literacy.  You moron!  (still feeling the sting from this one)

7. Spit your gum out before you go to your interview.

8. Don't compliment the elevator simply because your hideously nervous of silence. 

9. If you say your fluent in Spanish on your resume, you should probably be able to answer a pregunta or two mid interview.

10. Smile smile smile.  Take a big deep breath, check your teeth and realign your posture; you've got this.  You are an asset to any company lucky enough to hire a gem like you to their payroll.. own it. :)

My interview at William Morris Endeavor

At exactly 10:25 AM, I waltzed past the Equinox desk that I've become so familiar with these past three years, gave a little wave, and proudly pressed the digital keypad for the elevators labeled WME, floor 3.  I am finally going up!

My interview lasted roughly 10 minutes, but I'd like to recount it... mostly for my own self reflection, but also for anyone who is curious about what really goes down at the coveted William Morris Entertainment.

The building is absolutely gorgeous.  The elevators are so fancy that there aren't even buttons to press inside, the receptionist has already programmed it to elevate you to the desired floor.  Clean, modern and chic, I couldn't picture a better headquarters for the worlds biggest and oldest global agency.

I met with Carol Kutz.  Her gorgeous bombshell of an assistant whisked me into Carol's corner office overlooking Beverly Hills.  With all the confidence I could muster, I strode into the space, only to have her eyes swiftly sweep over me  with a slight flicker of disdain. She was pleasant, but to the point; pretty, but plain. The room smelt vaguely like cookies, which she attributed to her perfume when I complimented the inviting smell.  The office was busy but organized and I was instructed to rest on a small white love seat against the wall.

Her shpeal was more than rehearsed.  It was a monotonous rundown that she clearly has said thousands of times before and will most likely say thousands of times in the future. Its funny to think of how many great agents have sat in a similar couch, getting the same well planned speech. I wonder what crossed their minds as they absorbed what sounds more like their sentencing for the next four to five years than the glamorous job they had envisioned.

She asked me where I was from, what my parents did for work and where I went to college, making a bitter jab that I am still quite young.  I interrupted to elaborate on my success at Model Club, but to no avail.  No matter the prior experience, everyone at WME starts in the same place.  The mailroom.

If I email Carol back saying I would like to be employed, this is how the next four long years would look.

I'd wake at 7am to be pushing around a mailcart from 8 to 5.  After a few months of slave labor for 10 dollars an hour and health care, I would be eligible to fill in for assistants who are on vacation.

Another few grueling months and I've been at WME, pushing mail and answering phones at foreign desks, for nearly a year.  Ready to quit, HR decides I'm ready to start interviewing for a real desk.

At any other company in the world, I would be horrified to be on the cusp of my 26th birthday and only being considered for a bottom feeding assistant's desk.

A year of getting coffee and scheduling dog grooming appointments (Carol's exact words) with an occasional contract to look over and I finally gain entrance into the coveted agent training program. Alas, I am still making 10 measly dollars an hour, and now I am on the cusp of 27.

Over the next year or so I'd bounce from department to department absorbing as much as I can, networking my toosh off, and reading more scripts then humanly possible on my "time off".  I'm still making peanuts, but at least my goal of being a WME agent finally feels attainable.

After the training, I am asked whether I would like to be promoted to agent when a position becomes available or if I would like them to help me find employment elsewhere.  I mean with a WME graduate degree, the sky is the limit.


I really liked Carol, she is quick witted and doesn't sugar coat.  And I had done my research, so I knew what to expect.   But laying it out like that made me shiver as I fumbled with the elevator keypad to take me back down to reality.  Yes, I loved working at Model Club, and I flourish in the fast paced environment of the entertainment industry, but this feels much more like selling my soul to a corporate life of misery than landing my dream job.  I would love to see the inner workings of my most esteemed company, but at the price of my life? I'm not quite sure.  Especially considering I would have to officially give up my dream of stardom, something that I cant quite fathom parting with just yet (no matter how many rejections I face..).   So that's that.  This is a big fork in my road, and one I'm not 100% confident I'm thinking clearly about, but what I do know with certainty is that enjoying this part of my life is much more important than any job.. and the paycheck that will eventually come with it.

To the employees of William Morris, I have a new founded respect for each and every one of you.  Perhaps someday I'll make it big enough to grace your talent list.  Or who knows maybe I'll be the 1 in a million that gets poached from another agency to come work with you.  But the mailroom isn't something I can commit to a month or so away from my 25th birthday.