"You Don't Live In London?????"

No I don't live in London, it's true, bring on the handcuffs or the self flagellation! I confess it - I am an actor and I live in the North of England. Does this really have to mean that I am cursed to a life of self blame and denial?

A few days ago I landed an advert with, shall we say, a well known mobile technology company. Ecstatic to be working (cheerful agent now even more so) I consult my little black book for friends, acquaintances, people I knew a lifetime ago or even complete strangers with whom I drunkenly chatted once. All to find a space to lay my head whilst filming this epic. Unfortunately no corner of London was available to me (best friend playing the spiritual side of herself in Frankfurt and her excellent accommodation/food/wine closed for foreseeable future).

What was a northern girl to do? "Sod it!" I thought and with the bit firmly between my teeth and Reg the flying Punto firmly under my ass, I cried "I'll drive!" It takes about 3 hours to navigate my way past the salesman's X5 and Audi cars with jackets swinging on hooks in the rear. Not a bad drive really especially with my Man for company, tuning the radio and passing out sandwiches or cigarettes.

So a bustling morning (having left at 5 am) finds me bright eyed and bushy tailed in the city of actors trying on clothes for my role. At which point there's a blind panic at the production company when I'm asked to write my address and phone number on a random piece of paper. A wide eyed (but very sweet) Production Assistant consults, behind closed doors, a terribly trendy Production Manager who strides across the office with an incredulous gaze. He looks again at the paper containing my address as if maybe, just maybe he's read it wrong and in a voice that implies I've just served him pigs trotters on a bed of black pudding he says: "You don't live in London?????"

Erm....actually....no.... but I've read loads of books on the subject of acting and I've never found one yet which instructs the actor first and foremost to live in London. Surely talent, ability, technique etc is more important than location? Certainly with Reg the flying Punto and Man as my M6 support team - I'm never late for London!

Just how many chairs do you think you can emergency stop?

So here I am, sitting somewhere in the North of England thinking to myself I just have to tell someone about this. Everyone, anyone, somebody or nobody? It really doesn't matter!

I spent four years training at drama school to do what I do, blood, sweat, tears and tea went into my degree - cheating, so sadly apparent in our universities if the discussion on 5 Live the other day was to be believed, was not an option for me!

Don't get me wrong - this blog is not a way to vent my angst at the world as to why I haven't been invited to collect my award at the BAFTAs yet, or even the TV Choice Favourite Soap Special Dinner. Quite simply life is funny!

How many of you can say that they went to a meeting today and were asked - in all seriousness - to emergency stop a perfectly ordinary chair?

This audition was my first in a while (I've changed my agent in the last few months and she's very cheerful). I proceeded up the stairs out of the rain, so glad that I'd spent time straightening my hair, and filled in the casting form: smiling all the time at the other candidates whilst trying both to look confident and smaller than my actual height (a difficult feat to master). Then there's the obligatory photo against the blandest wall in the room, which of course looks really bad. Why do casters still use Polaroids? Actors spend hundreds of pounds a year on quality pics only to dress up, go to a casting and be confronted with a blurred reproduction of how they look "at that moment". At this point I am usually bending my knees and normally blinking!

Well, after hanging around for an hour or so (castings always run late) it was my turn to win the caster and client over. I walk in the room, smiling, make eye contact - being direct only to be confronted with a plastic chair and a scenario on how to emergency stop it. I did not make it seem natural! I tried all the actor's process, the Stanislavski, even the Peter Brook but I just couldn't seem to make it serious enough - probably not helped by the giggles I was trying to suppress.

You see I might be £250.00 plus repeats poorer but no amount of money can buy the smile that stayed on my face for a whole day!