I’ve been back in the Wild, Wild West Coast, the City of Fallen Angels, that horrendous epicenter of civilization, Los Angeles, for 6 weeks now. And I’ve morphed, changed, become someone I hardly recognize. No, I didn’t get the tempting implants, nor have I become a yoga teacher or received a career enhancing lobotomy. But strange things have happened to my body and my mind. One of the most bizarre is:

I’ve forgotten how old I am.

I mean it. When you lie about your age on a day to day basis, especially when not defaulting to a preprogrammed number but simply spouting out the 2 digits the person in front of you most needs to hear, and every day unsought advice on “your look” and “your MO” flies out of every mouth you encounter, your brain pushes all the information together and you get to a state where you no longer know who you are, much less when you were born. Ok, whoa. I’m getting all wacky on you with runons. But that’s what it’s like here.

Let’s not even go to the “you’ve got a great look” and “you’re a _____ type” just yet. Let’s just talk about age.

Last week I had 2 auditions. On Wed the role I was attempting to land was a 17 year old shy schoolgirl. 17 is but a memory, but I’m very small and am told I look young, so I still get sent out for teenagers. The problem is, when you put me or any 20-something in a room with real live adolescents, there is a vacuousness in their expression, a lack of experience that can be smelled, that no older actor can ever replicate. And I look like a dumbass even being in the room. So yeah, I was a bit worried my manager had thrown me into the fire with this casting director. I put on my plaid skirt and green sweater from my recent project “The Adventures of CC Bright.” I pulled my hair in a ponytail and tried to act slightly stupid… like the last ??? years of late nights, hard work and heartbreaks hasn’t happened. But there was some of the real deal in those waiting rooms. Sweet baby girls who probably couldn’t define “cynicism.” Luckily, many of the ladies trying out were between 20 and 25, so I wasn’t off the mark, and felt I could stand a chance. Then some of the young men auditioning for the 17 year old boy walked in. That’s when I knew I was out. If you can smell inexperience on a young girl, then the scent of the dudes would clear out a 1500 capacity nightclub faster than an old fashioned stink bomb. Men mature more slowly, yeah, yeah, we all know that. But it doesn’t hit you till you look at a guy 5 years younger and realize the potential of making out with him on camera and not feeling like Mrs Robinson is slim. I left the office feeling fine about my audition, but with a lingering dread that I may be past my industry prime.

Then on Thursday I auditioned for a commercial where I was to play a “young mom.” My commercial agent calls Wed afternoon and says the role is late 20s - early 30s. Yup, a character more than 10 years older than the one I tried out for that day. See what I’m talking about? Who the hell AM I?? This one is just as tough. Though late twenties is nearer to me than 17 (I think, as I have forgotten my actual age,) “young mom” is hard to pull off when most tween girls who may play your daughter are bigger than you. But let’s give it a shot. I put on the closest thing I have to a soccer mom outfit and wear lots of very practical makeup. I get to the casting office… and all the women are at least 5 years older than me, and at least 3 inches taller. *SIGH OF MAJOR FRUSTRATION*!!!! Am I simply wrong for everything!

While contemplating what possible role I could ever be right for, I hear a high pitched voice exclaim “I’m 5 and a half! Actually, I’m over 5 and a half because I turn 6 on Nov 21st, but I’m still not a new number yet!” I look over to the source, and there they are: HOLLYWOOD CHILDREN. A small number of very young girls had appeared, all of them auditioning for the part of my daughter. The one shouting her age at the casting assistant was with her mom, who was brushing her hair and telling her to calm down. The little girl then eyes the room and whispers “Mom, I think they are looking for older kids here.” Another little girl then approaches the sign in sheet, a bit taller, with beautiful long red hair and that Dakota Fanning creepy-calm expression. The 5 year old says to her “Hi!! How old are you?” Redhead smiles sweetly and says “I’m 7.” Hyper 5 year old loses all the color in her face and says “Oh. I’m 5 and a half, but I’ll be 6 Nov 21st.” “Cool!” exclaims redhead, and they give each other a full once-over. OH MY GOD! A 5 year old girl is already freaking out about if she’s the right age for a part! Why do this to them!!!

It gets creepier. Beautiful redhead runs into another little girl she knows from previous auditions. Their exchange begins with Red’s mom asking “Hey, was that you that booked that nature commercial?” “Yeah” answers the new brunette, as though it were nothing that exciting. Mom says “Good job” and gives her a high five, but anyone could see Red’s mom was pissed it didn’t go to her little Cherub. So she says to Red “Hey, tell her what YOU just did.” Red: “I just shot a McDonald’s commercial! It was fun, but I had to eat SO many chicken nuggets! But they let me spit them out.” WHAT THE FUCK! If at 7 years old I was hired to eat an unlimited amount of chicken nuggets, I’d have been the happiest child in creation! Spitting them out? My god, is she already dieting?? After this exchange, Mom goes and shmoozes some model, and the girls begin running around the room, playing simon says, recounting scary movies they saw, and making fart noises. Whew! It’s a relief to see that they are actually children, not Hollywood created drones.

After waiting entirely too long, the Casting Director brings all the actresses auditioning for mom and daughter into the room. The little girls all giggle as he gives us our instructions. The spot is about a family who’s dad has to travel the world for business, so the daughter gives the dad her stuffed monkey, which he then photographs at major landmarks around the world with his AT&T phone. We audition in pairs, and do an improv where we tell the child to say bye to daddy and she gives him the monkey. Then we do a second scene where we are looking at my AT&T phone at the monkey photos, and finally do a last one where she greets Daddy after his return. Easy enough. They put us in pairs, and I get paired with the youngest little girl, the hyper 5 year old. Makes sense as I’m the youngest mom, BUT… this one is the most insane. I guess because she hasn’t recieved the Hollywood indoctrination the others have. We get into the room, and on the first scene I lean down and say “Say bye to Daddy!” She runs over, SHRIEKS “Bye Daddy,” throws the monkey onto the chair and starts punching it. The CD and I look at eachother and he asks “Uh, are we trying to kill the monkey?” She busts into hysterical laughter, and I have to grab her for the next scene. We start doing the thing with the phone, and she turns her butt to the camera and just yells out things like “oh my gosh!” “look at my monkey” “i can’t believe it” without listening to a word I’m saying. We cut and I turn her around so she’s facing the camera, holding her waist tight so she can’t move. We do another take where I talk about the pictures on the phone and she just giggles this time. We finish that take and she’s starts laughing and jumping up and down. The CD gives us instructions for the final scene. He says “Daddy’s returned. Mom, go “Say Hi to Daddy” and then daughter, go give him a hug and take the monkey back.” When she finally calms down a bit, I lean down and say “Say Bye to Daddy!” I immediately caught the mistake and stood up, then she for the first time she stops laughing and screams “It’s HI not BYE!!!” The CD looks at me and awkwardly laughs. I’m ready to sock this kid. We do another one, with the right line this time, and she runs over, picks up the monkey and starts beating it against the chair. For fucks sake. I’m never procreating. At least not in this town.

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