Confused

It's no wonder us limelight lovers get a tad confused from time to time. The lies we have to consider just to possibly be seen for a job are the kind of ludicrous tales that would make a low-rent fraudster blush. When growing up, I never realised that a strong part of my job would be pretending to strangers that I'm actually fairly competent at playing the flute. And I'm pretty sure, when my parents stared down at me on the day I was born, their one wish was that I would spend my adult days desperately clutching on to a stage combat qualification that expired years ago and claiming that accidentally picking up one Arabic word a year constitutes as learning the language. I mean, it's bad enough that we have to trick our mind into being someone else when we're on stage or in front of a camera but when we're doing it in our day to day life too? Surely that's something to be worrying about.

This morning, while on my daily futile search for work, I found a lovely advert for a children's show. Reading through it all sounded very delightful until it came to the character's description. Physically I fit the bill but the extras required were a little more challenging. However with a little bit of truth twisting, I'm sure I can pretend that I'm the actress for them...

Must be able to sing well - I sound awesome singing Elmo's Song in the shower (if you don't know this song, I urge you to stop reading and go here instead.)
Ability to play multiple musical instruments - as previously stated, I do know how to hold a flute. I can also actually play the piano. Let's just ignore the fact that I've previously owned an oboe, a violin, an accordian and a guitar yet have neglected to learn a single tune on any of them.
Circus skills - T will vouch for the amount of times that I nearly fall over, bump into things and drop items. The fact that I've yet to injure myself must mean I have some sort circus-worthy skill.

So, after convincing myself that I'm entirely right for the job, I went about applying. I marketed myself as the perfect performer for children's theatre. I put myself across as the smiley, bubbly performer that I rarely am. I highlighted all the children's theatre that people have bafflingly allowed me to part of and hoped that they ignore all the battered wives, prostitutes and soldiers that I've also played. Proud of my little cheery application, I fired it off and went in search of the next job.

A paid job for an online commercial came up. Perfect. There were two roles applicable for me being a lady type under 30. Excellent stuff. I had two roles to choose from. However, the two roles available were for a French Maid and a Stripper. Oh. Sadly the truth-twisting game didn't work quite so well this time...

Slim - while still able to fit into old clothes, Christmas has most definitely taken its toll and the layer of stilton and Pringles that I'm currently sporting is probably only of interest to those in the insulation game.
Sexy - my favourite pair of knickers is covered in cartoon monsters.
Seductive - the only thing that gives me a slightly husky voice is sleeping next to a wall with a propensity for damp.

Could I really go from marketing myself as the perfect children's performer to trying to convince someone that I'd be the ideal French Maid? The fact is that, despite my high regard for the human race and my firm belief that no one needs to see me flouncing around in a French Maid's outfit, I could easily justify my suitability for this role. And now it has just been announced that a casting website is now allowing actors to add up to five 'character types' to their profile. I'm off to see if I can market myself as the first sex-bomb, girl next door, street-tough, posh, princess. Let's see those job offfers come flooding in.