I Didn’t Stutter! – Part 2

GUYS! I GOT A CALLBACK!

Alright. Before you read this, take a look at part 1.

You know that audition? I got a callback. I GOT A OH my god.

Er. I found out. a week ago but… Kinda was distracted by stuff and… I’M SORRY!

I went for the second audition today. Central London, again – and on the way there, I was frantically running over my script. And swearing. In fact I swore so much that I was terrified I might swear in the actual thing. After several explosions of “FUCK! SHIT! NO SHIT DAMN BLOODY HELL!” I think my dad was either irritated or amused. Probably the latter – I’m a right bundle of laughs, after all. HAHAHAHA. Yeah right.

You know what?

I DIDN’T mess up! I know – shocking, right? After all, I was panicking so much before I went in that I almost hyperventalated. GAH!

I went in the room. We started with the script – a woman was running the auditions this time. She put me so much at ease that I forgot I was nervous. Usually I’m terrified.

The script actually went so well. I was horrified that I didn’t screw up – but she said I did well, which boosted my confidence so much that you wouldn’t believe it. I didn’t.

And then came the part where I bragged about myself – sorry, I meant talked. I said the usual shit: “Er yeah, I have a CD and I write songs and I like to write and yeah.” Except I laughed. A lot. OH GOD!

I know I won’t get the part, but there’s an insane part of my brain that just hopes. I have a CHANCE, and I guess that’s all I need to feel better.

All in all? Successful day 🙂 I needed it.

It was an amazing experience. If I don’t get the part, I’m just so happy that I managed to do the audition, and I’m so glad that I managed to scrape together the confidence to stand up there and talk and be myself.

I feel like such a high-and-mighty twat. BOW DOWN TO ME, PEASANTS!

From the great, all-powerful, narcissistic, moronic Elmitron

I Didn’t Stutter!

I want to crawl into a hole and sleep for a decade.

If you didn’t read the post about my audition, take a look or you won’t understand what the hell I’m blathering on about.

I will NOT recount the boring-as-arse train journey there for that specific reason.

So we got there. An hour early. And because my dad is an exercise fanatic, we walked around for half an hour, and went to a cafe until we had to go to the place (which was a building, and the auditions were held in a basement)

Thank god I knew no one there. Actually, I lie – there was a guy named Jack there. I’d met him in another audition for a two-second part in Call the Midwife. Jack acts in Bad Education, and before he went into the room, we had a short conversation which consisted mainly of me fretting and running over the script with my dad (and shouting at my dad because he was being a right arse)

Ah… The script. Remember ow I said I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing? Well… I received the script 20 minutes before I went into the room, and had to run over it frantically before I could do anythin. That wasn’t their fault, it was probably me just being disorganised.

I went into the room after Jack went out – I got  the nerve to ask him how it wnt, which was surprising because I CAN’T SOCIALISE. I basically told my dad to bugger off so I wouldn’t be embarrassed if he was there.

The audition went okay, I think. They told me to talk about myself, and I rambled on like a twat about my songwriting and my CD (where I went into a recording studio URGH self promotion). I had to do it in a sort of presenting style, which was kinda terrifying. I half-stuttered and floundered a little, but it wasn’t too bad.

Then the script, and then I talked about my blindness. Oh god. To be honest, I couldn’t give a bugger about the disability, but it was just a bit weird talking about it.

I know I won’t get the part, but it was an amazing experience. And even if I don’t, they still have me down as auditioning for something.

By the way, thank you guys SO much or all your encouragement! It means so much.

Blurgh. I want sleep…. 

Er and the yeah that’s why and I’m a um well actually you see it’s…

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

I genuinely think I’m going to explode with nerves. I mean it. You’ll get an Elm-shaped crater where I was. (haha, Elm shaped oh my god)

Gah. CALM. Peace and calm and serenity and all that…

Tomorrow, I’m going up (down?) to London to audition for some acting – no, PRESENTING – job.

Woah, slow down! Just to warn you, this is going to make me sound like an absolute, arrogant, self-centred twat. Basically, about 3 and a half years ago (nearly 4) I was involved in a film called Imagine. ‘Twas about blind people, so obviously I got the part…

Oh no, that sounded worse than I thought. “Look at ME, PEASANTS, I was in a film and you weren’t, nyahahahaha, I’m sooo great!” Dear God.

It was a great experience, and I made a few friends. Also, it was hectic and I distinctly remember several catch phrases… Let’s not go into that.

When I was 11, I was a confident little shit, and so after the film I signed up to this agency called Visable (that’s it’s name, isn’t it?!)

It’s only now that I’ve been convinced to do some work. The conversation with my dad went a bit like this:

“There’s a presenting job on the website!”

“WHAT?! Huh? What?”

“Well, it’s tomorrow… Do you want to do it?”

“Tomorrow… WHAT? What do you mean, tomorrow? Oh god I don’t know, I don’t know, just give me a second to think!”

I was convinced to do it. How, I don’t know. I know I’m being arrogant and picky – it’s an amazing opportunity – but I am terrified.

The problem? I can’t speak without stuttering. Yeah, sure, with friends I’m fine, but stick me in a room with people, tell me to talk, and I can’t.

Has anyone got any tips?! I have a bad feeling I’ll fuck up and say something wrong. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing! What if I mumble?

Okay, okay, okay! Stop freaking ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh dear god

Sorry for spamming with the O’s… I’m scared!

What if I-

Aaaaaaargh!

Help meh! I’m not even joking; the bloody thrice damned thing is TOMORROW, and I’m shit at acting, and I can’t string a sentence together, and WHY did I agree to this!

Okay. I’ll just wing it. I hope I don’t cry, or something, when I get there. I’m 15. I’m mature. I CAN DO THIS!

Elm, professional actor, speaker and presenter, signing out.

HA!