Saturday I woke up at around 2pm from a nap, to a slew of messages from my managers. By 9pm I was on a flight to NYC. The job I had not booked and then insisted on going on tape for again (please see my last blog post), wanted to see me on Monday for the director and HEIR PRODUCER. Today I had a session with casting, a session with the director, and then a final, final session with the whole shebang in the span of four hours.
I just got back to my friends’ place (where last night I sweated so furiously all night into their sheets, that they’ll probably never be friends with me again), and though I am exhausted, I feel like a motherfucking badass. It doesn’t matter if I book it or not (though, to be clear, I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO BOOK IT), what matters is that I knew I could do better, and I did. I flew into NYC on my own dime twice for this job. I didn’t take no for an answer. They were like, “You’re not right the part” and, to quote The Beatles, I was like, “Oh, no, no, no, you’re wrong.”
This morning the casting director thanked me for flying in again and I said, “I’m too old to say ‘no’ anymore.” There are major gigs I turned down in my teens that I spent years regretting. I’m not doing that shit anymore. I didn’t want to pass on this and spend the rest of my life wondering “what if?” And, yes, I totally could not afford a last-minute flight ON A SATURDAY across the country, but it did not matter. I put that shit on a credit card and over-packed my bag.
And here’s the craziest part: If I don’t get it, it’s okay. It means it’s not my job. I did everything in my power to get it, and that’s all I can do. If necessary, I will be able to walk away from this knowing that I am a fucking warrior that cannot be stopped.
And now, I nap.