Haywire. Oh noz. PS: I made up a word for Paul Mitchell.

So crazy shit everywhere. Literally, I feel like everything's happening at once, and I'm trying to hold onto it all. 
But let's start this out with a mini-review of Haywire.

(I can see you.)

So going into it, I was kinda stoked. Gina Carano kicks butt in real life, which is baller. And that's kinda what they used to promote the movie. And now I know why.


For anyone who's like, "Oh acting is easy, anyone can do it."...you shall watch this movie and you shall sign up for acting classes. 


On the flip side, if you're a writer, I hope this gives you the push to write a good movie.


Because in this film, you will find lines like this beauty:


BILL PAXTON: She texted me and said she was going to Spain. 
EWAN MACGREGOR: What'd she say? 
BILL PAXTON: I'm going to Spain. I'll call you when i get back. 


Lovely.


Oh, spoilers. By the way. I guess. Are you really going to watch this movie?


And then there's the score...which I'm not sure we're ever really supposed to notice. The scoring of this film made me feel like I was getting timewarped into a 60's cheesy spy movie. But then, it would go weirdly silent. Like the scene at the end, where in complete silence, Gina (out of absolutely NOWHERE) runs and tackles Ewan on the beach. 


Okay, I wont touch on everything because then it wouldn't be a mini review; but the blocking of the scene where she's in the airport hatch place is just her going around in a circle around the bad guy. And it's just like...seriously, that's what you came up with? Just going to be her weirdly circling the bad guy?


To be fair, Gina's fight scenes are pretty cool. But what's funny is, compared to Gina, all the other guys who are fighting with her clearly have never had fight training. 


There were way too many weird segways in this movie...like how she gets really upset when they guy who beat the crap out of her that she had sex with once dies. And she needs to be comforted. And how she had to put on camo on her face to beat up two guys (which ends up only being one). 


On the whole, it just felt like there was whole lot of extra film they smushed in there to make it 1h 30.


So just to cut this before it becomes a full on rant, I think this is a prime example of why actors do movies and not MMA fighters, but I do appreciate the kick-ass she brought to the film. 


On to real life!


A lot of things are kind of in a weird limbo right now,  and I don't know how to handle it all except to take one of  the calendars Sam's company was giving out for holidays gifts and organize everything.

Thank you, John E. Swallow for your calming nature pictures.


I think if I've learned anything these past two weeks, it's to follow my gut. 


I ended up getting a meeting and offer with this boutique agency who I had been referred to by someone who knew the people running it. It was a three-person agency, with a commercial, theatrical, voice over, and youth section. I had kept trying to call them after I got an e-mail saying to get in contact with the guy running it, and it was basically phone tag for almost 3 weeks. Finally, I set up a meeting with them. 




I go in pretty prepared: I have my book, resume, headshot, questions...I'm good to go. 


They're based out of their house. Which is fine, that actually didn't bother me. But they were located in Tarzania, which is waaaaay far from where everything's happening in Los Angeles. 


The meeting starts, and it's almost as if after the month or so of trying to meet him, he hasn't really taken a look at my resume, website, or anything. Which felt weird. He got my name wrong when I shook his hand. Off the bat, I'm feeling something's off.


He starts talking about how he and his wife started the agency because they felt like their agents weren't really taking care of them, that I guess after  the wife told her agency that she was going to be gone for 2 months, her agency dropped her. Which was shitty...but 2 months is kind of a lot, isn't it? Maybe not.


He continues talking, saying that if there's a job that says something like "$2,000 + 10%", they'll only take the 10% and not 10% of the $2,000...which I find out later, no one does that. No one will take any of the money that's designated to you: the +10% is already for the agency.


I ask him questions of how many people are in the agency, and he says that there are about 250 clients, and only 5 of "my type". That's cool, I guess. 


But there was one selling point that just kinda killed it for me. He said something to the tune of "Not everyone can be a movie star, so we take people who aren't and try to help them out"


Woah. I just started, sir. Thanks for your optimism. 


He didn't mention what he thought he could cast me in or send me out on. 


And suddenly, I got this vibe of, "Um, I guess we'll take you." Like he wasn't really sure what to do with me, but he'd take me in anyways and see what he could do.


I'm most definitely not saying that I am somehow too awesome for a small agency. Fuck, I just started, I'm not stupid. But I got this feeling in my gut that told me if I decided to sign with this agency, I was going to get stuck. I wasn't going to move anywhere. I'd be on a list, and get thrown into some auditions, but if I signed a contract for 1 or 2 years...that's a lot of time to be stuck. 


He got my name wrong at the end of  the meeting. And I knew it just wasn't going to happen.


So I passed. The one thing I've been striving to find, and I passed on it.


I might have fucked up. In 3 months, I might be like, "Fuck, why didn't I sign?"


But my gut was the thing that led me to move to Los Angeles and not apply for grad school. My gut was the thing telling me to go to UCSB. And my gut led me to ditch marine biology for acting.


And a lot of other shit non-career related. Seriously, I have premonition dreams that are scarily accurate.


So I may be really mad at myself in a few months, but hopefully I didn't screw myself over.


I'll let ya know how that one goes.




On to the made-up word that might get me in a Paul Mitchell campaign.


So I get this notification that they want me to audition. And I'm pretty fuckin' stoked.


I drive to the audition office on Sunset for my appointment at 4:00. It's 4:00, and I go into a parking lot next to the building. A man comes up to me to tell me the parking fee is $10. Aaaand back into the car, I go.


I drive around, searching for street parking, and finally find a spot a block and a half down, pay for my hour parking with ONE DOLLAR, THANK YOU. Does that make me cheap or responsible and realistic...


I walk to the office, and get there around 4:25. Finally, I get to the third floor where the auditions are...and the room is FILLED with curly haired girls. 


Guess I found it.


Then a girl, who I THOUGHT was in charge of everything, was like, "The sign up sheet is downstairs, could you grab it and bring it up?" 


Sure, cool, no problem. 


I get it, and come back up the stairs...


"Oh, wait, you didn't get the paper? There's paper we need to write what are curls are."


Okay, sure. Exercise in heels is cool.


Turns out, this girl wasn't even a door monitor or anything, she was just fucking lazy.


And she called some girl "honey" or "sweetie" while she was trying to see if she could go into the audition (which always felt like a "hello lower beings!" term of "endearment"). And she didn't have curly hair. What are you doing here.


One girl just straihgt out (pun-tastic) came in with straight hair, which was awkward. I guess her agent didn't send her the memo...yay for owning your own actor's access account!


So basically, the campaign "slogan" thing was to say what your curly hair was with an adjective of your choice that you wrote down on a piece of computer paper. Which was already a minus 10 points for me because of my horrendous handwriting. 


It's...me. So "pretty" and "beautiful" just weren't going to cut it.


And I got flashes of Uncle Vanya and Disney movies. And I knew what my word had to be.


Mermaidtastic.


Is it a word? No. There's a bright red squiggly line under it as I continue typing this entry.


But whatever, it fits, and if they were looking for something else, no big deal, I'm still mermaidtastic. 


A side note: I actually ended up seeing Jessie Sherman, who had graduated from the BFA a few years before me. That was awesome! Especially because we were literally there for an hour and a half just waiting to audition, so tons of time to catch up and kind of talk about LA and shiz. Totally gave me some good advice about finding a hobby...that's not acting. Because it's true! Literally, all I do now is focused on scripts, auditions, and filming shit. So. I don't know, someone take a cooking class with me or yoga or something.


So I finally get called, close to 6:00 pm. But who is following after me but an actual model. Well, shit. I still have my personality...right? Right...exactly. 


 I slate my name and my word, and they just start asking me questions about the word I chose and my curly hair...and they actually really dug it. Points for the creature who made up a word. 


And I thought I was going to find a ticket on my car, because clearly I was there almost 30 minutes after my ticket expired. But there wasn't one. So I gave the dollar I would've spent on parking to a homeless woman. It's karma, people, and it's real. 


Who knows if I'll get a call back...but shit, loves me some Paul Mitchell products. 


Not sure how they would make that print ad...but if they made me into a mermaid-...okay too much forward thinking. 


I leave you with this lovely gem from actor's access. 

Honestly, sometimes I wonder if some of these are secretly low-budget soft-core porn movies.