It's like Where's Waldo. With a lot more panic attacks.

I feel weird putting good news here....somehow it ends up not as interesting to read.

To spark-note this shit, I got an appointment with a REALLY good agency from someone who was represented by them. That was the good news I never told you. But now I can, because it starts this story.

I had one meeting, I think, last month...and the day of the appointment something came up and I got a call the day of that they had to reschedule. Which was cool...the first 3 times. And then I just started feeling awkward. I totally understand: it's pilot season, shit's busy. But I kinda felt like...I was imposing. Like I was starting to be the burden appointment they kept pushing until they were like "uuuuuugh fiiiiine".

So finally, the appointment was set fur realz...the agent's assistant was like, "Even if a last minute New York trip or Hunger Games screening comes around again, the appointment will stand." Which made me feel shitty again: I wouldn't turn that down.

The whole day I'm trying to stay cool. I'm super stoked, but not really sure what to expect. But you can bet your ass I googled that shit.

So google told me to stay cool, don't talk about myself excessively, and prepare answers for questions like: why do you want to act?...cool, I can do that.

I'm curling my hair, trying to look goooood...and as I'm sitting, curling the last pieces...I drop the curling iron on my leg.

Pretttyyyy.

So that takes out wearing a dress to this appointment.

This should've been a sign of the day to come...but I ignored the omen.

I pack with me copies of my headshots and resumes in my purse, finish getting ready, and I'm gooood to go.

It apparently takes 25 minutes to get there, and my appointment is at 4:30...so JUUUUUST to be safe, I leave at 3:30. That's right, a whole hour before.

Traffic's good, I'm chillin', feelin' gooood...and I get there at like 4:00. There's no real parking for the place it seems, so I just park at the mall across the street. Granted, I never actually see the place...I mean there's no sign, no real indication...but it says it's close, so I park and take the stairs up to this outside mall.

I take out my phone and google map the place...and it's super close! Awesome!

I follow the map, making my way to the green dot on the map...and I get to the dot...

And I'm in the middle of the mall.

I look around, seeing if it's around the corner or something.

Nope. Nothing.

Fuck.

Now it's 4:09.

Okay. 21 minutes. I can do this, whatever.

I ask someone in the Tiffany's store if they know where the agency is...and all of them don't really know, except one! Who tells me I have to keep going straight and go into the building with the "Westfield" sign on it.

Lovely! I thank him and go to the building...

I get there and go up to the receptionist...

...and he seems confused when I ask for the agency.

Oh shit.

At this point, it's 2:20, and I'm starting to freak out a little...like a lot.

He asks me the address, and I find it on my phone...and he sends me back into the mall.

So I'm in the mall...and I'm just like, "FUCK." and I'm starting to really panic. I can't find this fucking stupid building anywhere. And I have five minutes.

I'm literally about to cry at this point, no lie. I'm freaking out.

I go to the Mall info booth and ask if she knows...and she sends me across the bridge, second building on the left.

Just FYI, each of these people seem really fucking sure the agency is where they say it is, so the ups and downs of relief and then utter panic are getting stressful.

I go across the bridge, looking like a crazy woman fast-walking my face off, and get to this stupid building. I get to THAT receptionist...and it's not there. I'm literally about to just fuck my eye make-up up and cry my face off.

And then this messenger guy comes in, and the receptionist asks him if he knows where it is. And he says it's over the bridge again, cross the street, and go down half a block.

So basically. It's right across from where I started out.

WHAT THE FUCK.

So I thank him, and as I clunk-run in my heels, I call the number that left me a message last time saying that they had to change my appointment. And it was the agent himself...which was weird. But I immediately said who I was and told him I was on my way...

...and then he says he's transferring me to his assistant.

Oh. Okay.

So I repeat the same thing to his assistant, and he tells me not to worry. Alright, coo'. I feel a little better, but I'm already 3 minutes late.

I'm fast-walking, my satchel getting twisted into my shirt, but I keep powering through.

I take out my phone to double check that the building I think is the right one is the right one this time...

And it's dead.

So no more phone calls or looking at a map.

Awesome. Not like that was really helping in the first place.

I go into the building...go to the receptionist...and ask, hoping this isn't a repeat of the last three disasters, if this is the right building.

AND IT IS. YES.

And he sends me into this hallway...and at the end on the right lies the entry way to the agency.

HOW DO PEOPLE FIND THIS PLACE.

I make my way to the receptionist, and let her know that I'm here, and I sit down and wait. And I'm chillin' for a little bit, which is good because I had adrenaline pumping into every ligament, which was kinda making my stomach weird.

And this young guy comes out of the doors, and make his way towards me...and introduces himself as the assistant. He takes me into the elevator, telling me not to worry, to just chill out, relax, asks me if I wanted water...well, thank you nice assistant.

He leads me to the agent's room, and I walk in, shake his hand...you know how I do.

So I sit down. The assistant brings in the water. He asks me about myself: WATCH OUT! DONT TALK TO MUCH ABOUT YOURSELF, SAYS THE INTERNET! But I give him the basic lowdown.

He asks me what I've done so far, and I tell him.

And then he gives me advice, which, I am ALWAYS down for. Literally, I will take anything you got.

He asks to see my headshots if I have them with me...psh. DO I have them with me...I gotz a copy of each one.

I take them out...and he tells me to get them retouched. Which is fine, I had someone told me not to. So maybe I'll get both. But he doesn't really take one. He kinda just...puts them back.

Aight, thaz coo'.

So he starts giving me more advice. And the whole time, I was kinda getting a dead-eye, continuous stare of doom. Just like, no blinking, stare at your soul kinda look. I didn't know whether to just keep staring or blink or look away...but I'm always down for a staring contest.

 He tells me I should sign up for a breakdown website...which. Yeah,  I've kinda been doing that. But he doesn't really let me say anything, he kinda just keeps chugging along. He tells me I should have my headshot up on some sites...cool. Well. I have a website. And it's on at least 4 other ones.

And he tells me to do student films in LA...awesome. I've done like 5.

It was weird...it wasn't like he was asking me if I had done these things, but just kinda splurted advice at me.

He kinda ended it with the fact that the agency doesn't really take actors to find them small parts in movies and tv shows...aka there's no way we'll take you. Which is fine: please, I wasn't really expecting to get signed by the agency, but just kinda drop by, say hello hey remember me.

Oh, water! I forgot about you! I open my water bottle and pour some into a glass with ice, and take a sip...

And then he asks if I have any questions. Oh. Alright. I ask him about agents vs managers, on what to nab first. He tells me a manager...to do classes with a showcase and try to get an agent that way.

And then he kinda sends me on my way.

It was probably 5-7 minutes long.

And I looked at my water bottle, debating whether or not to grab it, or pretend that taking a sip and leaving the bottle is totally normal. I felt like the second option was the norm, so I left it, and shook his hand. He gives me his card, in case I had any questions...but I think he was just happy to finally get the appointment done.

So I leave, passing the huddled lines of people on phones, scolding people for fucking up...and I get to the elevator...and after a Jonah Hill look-a-like leaves, and I get to the ground floor...

I just start laughing.

Because that was so. freakin'. ridiculous.

I literally almost had a panic attack to hear someone who clearly wished he was doing something else tell me things I already kinda knew.

I cross the street, find my car that was literally 5 minutes away from the agency in the first place, and get stuck in traffic for 40 minutes before finally making it home.



And then Kelly Clarkson's "Stronger" comes on...

What doesn't kill you makes you strong-



And I turn it off.



Fuck that song.