I really don't understand a thing. Truly. I don't know how anything works or why anything works. I have no idea why exactly four months would pass before I felt compelled to blog again. It's just a coincidence, I suppose. But the simple fact is that I'm waiting for my phone to ring right now. And whether or not it rings is entirely out of my control. It's up to a group of people who are working together and who all have their opinion about whether or not my phone should ring. And at the end of the day, only one decision will be made.
I walked into the room once, I showed them my hair. I ran my fingers through it from all angles. I have nice hair. Thanks for that one, mom and dad. I smiled and said my name. I went home. Two days later, I went back. And I showed them my hair again. Only this time, they were all in the room watching me. Not just from the screens of their agengy-funded Macs. I wasn't a 300x250 pixel media player. I was in a chair. Showing them my hair. Again. And my hands. Because they can't be too scarred or disfigured. They liked my hair, and five minutes later, I left. I made light conversation when necessary. I acted like a professional. But I didn't do anything that required a shred of skill, talent, training or intellect. I modeled. In a chair. And, for the mostpart, they liked what they saw.
Now I'm waiting. Because they really liked me. And through no accomplishment of my own, I might soon be thousands of dollars richer and very, very bald. How curious. My face, my hair and my hands might pay my rent for the next two years. Not what's beneath them.
I'm waiting to find out what I'm going to be doing on December 15th. Waiting to find out if I'll make the guaranteed couple grand for the shoot. Waiting to find out if I'll become SAG-eligible. Waiting to find out if I'll finally find my way into the union. Waiting to find out if I'm actually going to be a pro. Waiting to find out if the couple days work I might have ahead will yield tens of thousands of dollars in usage and residual checks over the next year. Waiting to find out if I have to shave off all my hair. Waiting to find out if I'm going to have to start regrowing my hair on December 16th.
Tens of thousands of dollars, an elusive SAG card, and a bald head are all at stake. They are on the line and they could be mine, or they could not. And there isn't a single thing I can do to make either outcome happen. That's what this wait is like. And that is why I started to blog. Because the road that is in front of me right now could absolutely go anywhere, and I have absolutely no control over that.
Hooray for Hollywood.
