Epic Fail

Oh boy, do I have a story for you.

So I'm reading the Boston Herald yesterday and I read this:

North End restaurateur Nick Varano is heading to the small screen with a new show on New England Sports Network. The charismatic Strega owner is hosting an opening casting call tonight for a co-host/reporter from 8 to 11 p.m. at Strega Waterfront.

So why the auditions? “None of my friends are good-looking enough,” Varano quipped. Produced by Dirty Water TV productions, “The Strega Life with Nick Varano” will air once a month on NESN starting in early April. “It’s going to be like a variety type show,” Varano said.


So I let this marinate in my mind for most of the morning, I then ask some of the people I work with what they think. You know, like if I'm too old for this at this point in my life and stupid self deprecating crap like that. I gotta tell you that as much as I love being the center of attention, I really don't love being the center of attention.

I was surprised by what I heard. Everyone was all over me like white on rice.

"Oh my God, You HAVE to do this!"
"Candy, this was made for you!"
"You're so gonna get this!"

Later in the day, one of my favorite clients came into my boutique. We were chatting and working together, and she said to me, "Candy, you need to be in the movies." (OK, just so you know, I am not blowing smoke up my own a**, she really said that) I then tell her about the audition, to which I receive the same reaction. Fans, gotta love them. Funny thing is I then started thinking maybe I should do this. My background is in journalism, I've been in front of the camera countless times, yeah, I can do this.

I put my plan into action and did my due diligence. I called the company and asked about the specifics, did some research on Mr. Varano, told my husband, who got a good chuckle out of it and then lent his support and got a good friend to come with me. We arrive at the audition location and I put my name on the list. I was surprised to see of hundred women there, 90% of them had head shots and resumes. I did not, but fueled by my new found rock star status, I didn't care. I was not one bit nervous or intimidated. I actually felt so in control and quietly confident that I barely recognized myself. I was completely in my own head, which was a triumph in itself.

We sat at the restaurant bar and waited until it was my turn to dance. When my time came, I walked into a room with about 25 other women. I was at the back end of the line, about five in from the end. They announced that for this round of auditions, we were to grab the mike, stand in front of the camera, say your name, say you "Live the Strega life" and tell a little bit about yourself and then turn to the judges and do it again.

I watched as almost all of the 20 women in front of me bombed, and began to feel the adrenaline pump through my veins. Suddenly I felt like a crack addict on a bad trip, and I wondered why that girl of quiet confidence who walked through the door minutes earlier had abandoned me like a criminal scrambling from police sirens. I needed to think fast and do something to make me stand out from the rest as the ladies before me were toppling like domino's. Then it came to me! I knew exactly what I was going to say that will make them remember me and I'm going to take a risk.

My turn came and I took the microphone, said hello to the judges, (one of which was none other than Rajon Rondo), and began my shtick. I started out strong, real strong, so I thought. I announced articulately that I "lived the Strega life", and that the Strega life was all about passion, food, fun and fashion, living life to the fullest.

Then I gave it to them, the line I was sure would make them remember me and get a chuckle out of them.

I said in my best Seacrest impression, "And I am the next American Idol."

Crickets.

The rest is a blur, because at that very moment I was revealed to be the poser that I was. I wasn't at all surprised that they didn't ask me to stay and I wondered why I hadn't gone with my original plan. I didn't tell them about my blog, my kids, my shop, my life, and I realized I left them with very little other than the fact that I think I'm the next American Idol.

Epic fail.

In hindsight, I realized that I failed because I abandoned who I really am and I abandoned that quiet confidence of the girl that walked through the door. I should have repeated to them what became my mantra yesterday, before my fateful audition.

"You can't win the lottery if you don't buy a ticket."

And I got a valuable lesson. I realized that sometimes, the only real competition is within yourself.