Disenchanted

The drive across the Bay Bridge to the little San Francisco audition the other rain-soaked morn took over an hour. The price for parking, because I hadn't had a moment to scout out the address online before leaving the house, was $26 - yep, that includes losing the ticket for the absurd and labyrinth-like hotel parking lot when the ticket flew out of my raincoat pocket as I reached for my glasses while descending the creepy metal stairs in the empty basement lot. It was just that kind of day. 

So, what made me think I had a chance in H of getting the little role of a cleaning lady  - a silent role at that -  in a cheap corporate video, anyway? This is the kind of role smart actresses steered away from, even the "ethnically ambiguous" found such roles distasteful.

Do you think it's twisted to pursue this acting path, year in and year out, as chances get slimmer, productions get cheaper (even for union members, now with the new media contracts and the SAG-AFTRA merger), and my potential, which seemed like a genuine feasibility project three years ago, recedes into the smog?

I am not ready to give it up, but it's been a discouraging year so far. What's really sad is that when you know you have talent and you rarely get the opportunity to strut your stuff, it all sort of gets stuck somewhere, deep inside, like a bad traffic jam on the Bay Bridge.