"Improv Carrying a 300 Pound Pig!" : Oh, Commercial Auditions

So darn exhausted I could eat an entire salmon.  Why that image popped into my head, I have no flippin' [...no pun intended] idea. 

My mother is in town.  MOM.  Which means, the artist-daughter who has a lawyer-doctor parent combination has to get her crap together to look like she's aligned her sanity properly, which [as of today] included a complete rearrangement of my entire apartment... twice... as well as more Windexing then I've ever done in my life.

So I was up till the wee hours of five a.m. last night re-folding my entire beneath-the-bed clothing bins, while drinking wine and pondering my massive impending commerical audition, which was this afternoon.  As stressed out as we actor-writer-folk can sometimes be about money, rent, and life-neccesities -- it's a wonderful thing beyond all wonderfulness to be able to make one's own schedule [theoretically].  I spent the entire previous day getting crap done, and took "Wednesday afternoon" off to Zen out pre-hopeful National clinching. 

After twenty six last minute wardrobe changes, I finally flew out the door and booked it to Varick street this afternoon at two o'clock sharp.  I tried to stay the ball of anxiety at the scale of the thing -- such a big, fun, exciting shoots-out-of-the-country set of three national spots -- and could pay rent for a year.  And better yet -- the casting director is a HUGE network guy [or... erhm, girl, lady].  Who's brilliantly tough, hard to impress, and the best of the best of the best.  And I'd never gotten in front of her before.  Two hours prior, as I toddled around pondering life with a coffee mug and bowl of Vegan grain-dirt cereal [sigh, even though I'm not Vegan], I shot off a quick email to Fabulous Manager inquiring if I should have a heads up on anything.  

"You're perfect for it!" replied my ever-encouraging and upbeat Fabulous Manager, "Just be professional, like you always are, and make her curious about you for other things!"

As I munched my oats, I contemplated how I'd get Massive Network Casting Director to be "curious" about me in this superficial [but wonderfully so] 60-second spot.  Wasn't exactly Moliere, if you know what I mean.

Regardless.  Made it to the audition, did my thing [auditioned WITH another girl], and did a hell of a lot of slightly bizarre improv.  When you have to mime holding a pig and climbing into an elevator, you know you're either, A) a very serious actor doing a Shakespeare spinoff, B) a very serious actor needing to pay rent and doing a commercial, or C) unfathomably insane.  

Today, I think I was nearly all three.

But as I listen to my snoring Mom in the next room, more than likely curled up in a ball of adorable Mom Polish-ness, I find myself desiring nothing more than a very, very... good night's sleep... that involves... no dreams... of Windex.

Yawn, me, Ashley Avis