E!

To make up for the horrendous casting experience I had last week, something pretty cool presented itself this week. I finally got an opportunity to screen test for The Mecca, The Holy Grail, a host's wet dream, E! Entertainment. In this city they say who you know is everything, and while seven years in New York has made me inclined to interact with as few people as possible, I did have a meeting with a friend's brother's girlfriend who happened to work at E...exclamation point. I didn't know what to expect because most people in the entertainment industry are either batshit crazy or full of themselves (I hold both titles) and the thought of having coffee with someone prettier and more successful than me didn't sound like much fun. I'm kidding, I was just nervous, my social skills with strangers that don't amount to "f***k off" are just now beginning kick in. It turns out that not only are there normal people who work for industry giants, but some of them are downright delightful as well. This girl was one of those people. She sent anyone with an email address a blast about me and voila, two weeks later I had a screen test scheduled with casting. What?? Just like that?? It blew my mind.

With that out of the way, my old friend anxiety set in. What the hell was I going to wear?? I had already wasted my "good outfit" on the interview. Anyone who knows me also knows I wear clothing until they are merely a threadbare semblance of their former selves or until someone physically rips the rag off my body and forbids me to ever wear it again. In addition, the thought of shopping always brings on at least an hour of scouring the internet for free Xanax, and bouts of procrastination that leave me with the night before to find the perfect dress. OK I'm exaggerating, but only a little, I do truly hate shopping. I called a good fashionista friend to help, and after two hours and 30 failed inquiries of, "Do you carry anything in Cobalt blue," I gave-up and pulled a dress I had worn a million times out of my closet. An oldie but a goodie.

I had been practicing the entire week, and by practicing I mean running the copy about Daniel Radcliffe being an alcoholic on the set of Harry Potter, out loud, everywhere I went. In my car, running on the beach, in the shower, I got more than a few weird looks every time I exclaimed "Hogwarts!" Sigh. Whatever, there was going to be no teleprompter and I needed to know this thing backwards and forwards.

On the morning of, I gave myself four hours to get ready, a reasonable amount of time. I showered, blow dried, curled, tanned, air brushed, plucked, and glued on my newly purchased fake eye lashes. With thirty minutes to go time, I stepped back to take it all in and almost had a heart attack. Holy shit I looked like a porn star. Don't get me wrong, the hair was good, the dress was decent, the legs looked nothing like their pasty selves, but the lashes, oh my god the lashes. Now THIS is what I should have looked like for last week's audition. But it was too late to take them off and re-do everything so I left convincing myself they would look normal on camera. Wouldn't they?

After I parked and teetered my way into the magnificent holding cell that is E!'s lobby, I gave my name to the teenage receptionist and sat down. The room feels like you're actually on the set of E!; Red couches, framed pictures of Giuliana and Ryan, ten flat screen TVs all playing E!'s programming with the audio turned up to Ice and Coco, and wait...I know him...isn't that that one guy?? You know that one guy that builds houses and makes people cry. Yes! Sitting across from me was Ty Pennington! He had to wait too? Here with us commoners?? That's when I felt super cool. "S'up Ty, you have a meeting too? Yeah I'm just screen testing today, Oh you too? Cool, well break a leg." Not. Before I could figure out whether he was staring at me because he was wondering if my eye-lashes were going to eat him or because I was staring him down, two cute interns came down and whisked him out the doors through the marble lobby.

Finally my turn came, and the impossibly normal, laid back, wish we were friends, casting director came down and took me upstairs. We had met the week before for a general meeting and I'm pretty sure I convinced myself we were going to be best friends after this experience was over but my "new look" suddenly had me thinking otherwise. Did she think I looked ridiculous? Probably. Did she care? Probably not. The Kids Choice Awards were that night, my lashes were the least of her concerns. She took me through the maze of cubicles and more urban chic lobbies until we reached the little room that holds your destiny. Casting. I would just like to note that anytime I audition for anything I feel like Katniss in The Hunger Games as she is rising up through the ground to see the dome for the first time. A little dramatic? Yes. Do I always feel like I'm going to pass out as the little red light starts blinking and they're counting me down? Absolutely. I should reconsider my profession.

All in all I think I did OK, I didn't flub the copy (my neighbors and beach friends will be happy I'm sure), I paced myself, tried to be smiley and pleasant even though I was talking about everyone's favorite boy wizard boozing it up, and got a pretty standard, "Great I think we got it, we'll keep this on file for when something comes up." So that's that. Maybe I'll get to fill in for an anchor one day, maybe I'll interview Brangelina at some point, but one thing is for certain, those lashes will haunt me for the rest of my auditioning days.

And Scene.