Having had a really nasty cold over the last week, but more work and more meet-ees, it's been a dreary time. The weather has been cold and miserable and I was feeling fed up especially at all the work I've put in on various projects (from contacting people I'd like to work with, to organising meetings and a possible gig) and getting nothing back. But today has started to feel a bit better.
This morning on the metro, as I was travelling in to my 8am meeting, there was a woman with a canvas bag full of Christmas tree-like branches standing in front of me. Not particularly interesting. But then, I noticed a tiny little life-sized ladybird on the side of her bag. I thought it was really cool to have a life-sized plastic ladybird pinned to your bag and started on a little reverie about ladybirds and how the word for ladybird here, ,,beruška", is also a common term of endearment for women by their boyfriends, much in the same way as 'honey' would be in the US. And I am privileged to have been called that. It infact changes ending (it's the Czech language - of COURSE the ending changes..!) when you call someone over using that term, like when asking for help you with something, e.g., "Honey? Could you just...?" so it becomes, ,,beruško...můžeš...?" And that word just sounds so yummy and lovely in that context.
I came out of that linguistic reverie to find that the plastic life-sized beruska had in fact moved. And it wasn't plastic at all. It was real. So then I got quite involved watching the ladybird crawl up the bag to the bag handle and on to the cuff of the lady holding it and how she nearly swiped the ladybird off with her newspaper as she (standing up and still holding on to a handrail with one hand) flicked over a page. But the beruška survived. And crawled further along her arm and towards her glove. I somehow felt terribly concerned that the ladybird would meet with a sad end from this adventure of hers and wished she had just walked towards the fir tree branches instead, where she would be safer for longer. But the ladybird soap opera ended there as I had to get off at the next stop. I wonder if the woman holding the bag of branches ever noticed the ladybird? What torture it is to have such unanswered questions in my life...
Later on came more unanswered questions, in the form of an odd little gathering of people for a Wilkinson advert at the casting agency oddly called Myrnyx Tyrnyx near Petřín park. It was a typical huddle of actors and model types, mostly the latter when it came to the women, who had been informed that it would involve a secretary and boss. (Sad that they stick to the sexist stereotype of assuming the women are the former and the men the latter....) So there were several beauties sitting in a row in six inch heels and short skirts and looking every bit the sexy secretary.
And then there was me. Hmm. Not quite the sexy anything. I had at least managed to remove my newly acquired kid-like fingerless gloves/mittens combo that look like little brown pandas and had worn my red dress, with a thin grey belt but on an icy day like today, I had decided against the red Kurt Gieger shoes I should have worn if I'd wanted to compete with the others. (Though, as it turned out, they would never have been in shot anyway, but many actors consider this irrelevant as it helps you to get 'in character'.) As is so often the case here in Prague, the city full of Czech supermodels and Eastern European beauties around every (other) corner, the term 'actress' appeared to mean, 'classically beautiful specimen of a woman'. As though it was outrageous to think you could be an actress if you weren't. (Why try against this competition?) Thus, I felt like the ugly duckling. I often wonder if people think that this means I must be deluded about my appearance. I sometimes want to scream out to them - yes, I know I'm the ugly duckling of the room! I'm under no illusions. I'm just aware of the random nature of selection for these kinds of things and am here if for no other reason than to do the casting agent the courtesy of showing up for something she invited me to do."
As it was, for some reason, the casting agent remembered me and she's only seen me once before. She asked me as part of the introducing yourself bit, what kind of music I do. And as I trotted out the two most common artists I'm compared to, she said, "oh those are two of my favourite singers!" So I somehow made an impression despite my nondescript features. Though I must admit, when it came to playing the tiny little scene I had to do, being out of practice showed and I rushed too much. But at least I know what to do next time. And also one person to send my next recordings to.
Ah, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune...I wonder if the ladybird fared better today?
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