I spent last week going to castings and callbacks for a huge client. I did a job for them last year which could afford me a small shitty house in the northern peninsula of Michigan. In hindsight I probably should have moved there and married an ice fisherman. Sigh. I met with a bunch of people who took photos, looked at my hair, and scoured my portfolio. I was certain this one was in the bag. Sure enough, I get a call from my agent:
“Melissa you booked the hair dye boxes! We’re so excited for you! Hair prep is tomorrow and the shoot is Thursday. It’s a flat rate and depending on what countries they use the packaging in you could make a lot of money.’
I was feeling shitty the past few weeks because I’ve been taking off lots of time from work for vacation and my sister’s bachelorette party in Napa, so it was good to have a killer job lined up. I started to not hate modeling and was in a genuinely happy mood (this never happens by the way). I would make enough money to put off being an actual adult for a few more months. I texted my sister and Lizzy about the job because I was excited to be the “Chestnut Brown” box girl.
Well, as the title of this blog ensues, I get an email forwarded from my agent at 8pm (the night before the shoot):
“The client has changed the number of boxes they’re doing and Melissa may be cancelled tomorrow. We’re so sorry to do this but please stand by until the morning.”
I’m not a man, I don’t have a penis, but the feeling I got reading that email could be compared to a guy playing just the tip with Miranda Kerr and then she explodes and disappears into thin air. My face started to hurt, I almost puked the anxiety out of my brain. I was angry, and the only way I know how to deal with anger is by throwing my phone at the wall. Thank god for those iPhone bumper things. I started crying because that’s what girls do. I was just about to eat tomato rice soup but I threw it in the sink. It felt like someone stabbed me in the heart with an AIDS needle (ok I’m overreacting). I was angry, but this wasn’t normal angry, this was “I will kill your pets” angry. Not kitties though, never kitties. I was bummed about the money at first, but then I kept crying, and crying, and crying. Something more was going on in my brain. If I had been fired from an office job for fucking the mailman on my desk I would understand, but I had no idea what the hell went wrong with this job. Maybe my eyes were too far apart or my teeth weren’t straight enough. It’s a factor that I have absolutely NO control over, and that frustrates me the most.
I’m at the mercy of my agents who make a living off of me making a living. After booking that job I was getting emails like “congrats! xoxo” and “Good job!” Yay for me! I’m awesome! Ugh. Last night after a few hours of texting a friend about how I hate everything I thought, well the email said “might be cancelled” so who knows. I woke up at 8am this morning awaiting the final verdict, and it is now 3:11pm and I haven’t received one phone call or email. Nothing from my agent to check up on me after booking and then un-booking me the best job I’ve had all year. I’m thrown back into the herd.