It's Uncomplicated

Yesterday Netflix sent me a copy of the newly-released "It's Complicated" in an envelope advertising the newly-released "It's Complicated." I wasn't sure whether I was going to watch the movie I ordered, but upon seeing the ad I thought I would. Before I popped in the flick, I wandered into my kitchen, where I considered not eating a banana until I noticed a sticker on said fruit proclaiming its virtues. Full of fructose and cinema saccharine, I contemplated my own value until reading a press release I'd written about myself. "If it says so," I thought, sitting in a strangely unmarked object I'd come to know as chair.

Pass the Number Two Pencils

Insert charming statement to attempt to woo the world.

ABBA CDDB CBAD BAAC DCCA BDCD

Getting it all right in multiple choice: is it working?

Sonny With a Chance of Nepotism

Mickey Rourke was brilliant in "Iron Man 2," but I admittedly spent my time ogling his gorgeous bird whenever he was onscreen. Played by the naturally gifted Elvis, this Russian's sidekick rocked the film but was not invited back for the reshoots. Why? Because Rourke acquired his very own cockatoo named Sonny: and gave him the plum job as a replacement. Elvis is not for lack of paycheck, but still, I am certain his agent had to do a lot of claw-holding to calm down the screeching. Don't even think about the millet bill incurred in the process.

Monkey (Show) Business

And now for an ode to Warren Demontague, star of "Warren the Ape" for MTV (pilot to air June 14th). I believe him to be the most compelling fabricated American to hit the small screen in a long time, and not just because of his command of Shakespeare. He may have hit the skids after the cancellation of his show "Greg the Bunny," but he's in therapy and trying to get back on the wagon. Too young to play Willy Loman and too feisty to be a classical leading man, he's carving his own niche with his good looks, sardonic wit, and drive. May I someday work opposite him!

And Now For What You Just Did

4:40 PM: Commercial audition in West Hollywood.

6:00 PM: Back home.

8:15 PM: Received email containing link to video footage of audition.

What's more bizarre: technology, or the inherent nature of my career?

Imagine this: you got gussied up in your grey suit, you affixed a tie to your neck, you grabbed your notebook and briefcase and headed out to win the job.

The interview went alright; perhaps better or worse than you think, but you feel proud and ready for dinner.

Then you get the ability to watch how the interview went. And stand by your choice of sweater vest.

Classic Moves of a Virus-Addled Mind

I don't know about you, but getting sick induces serious existential crises in me. First a scratchy throat, and next thing I know I am disturbed by being trapped in a human body. From whence do I come, whither do I go, and when is someone coming to cuddle me? Have I missed entirely the life I was meant to have (was I eternally abandoned; am I to blame)?

Thank goodness for the humor of a cold. To keep one from trembling too swiftly on the topic of marriage, babies, worldly achievement, and home ownership, there's one's hilarious voice. "I'b thoo thsick," I say, "I'b THOOPER thsick. Where are by covv drobs? Dizzyues? I deed to blow by DOZE."

IMDb Me!

Now it's that much easier to vote for your favorite actress in the popularity contest that is IMDb with personalized URLs. Mine is http://www.imdb.me/audreydundeehannah. Click it or ticket!

Privacy History Reveals Long-term Relationship

And just when I thought I was being coy with you, website. Yes, it's true...I'm not as aloof as I appear.

Web Browser Feels Shame, Remorse

Pandora, in response, feels silenced, shut down. And human worker feels amused, accepting of program's apology.

Mother's Day

A few moments brought to you by Mother's Day 2010:

+ Betty White talking about her muffin and wanting to lez it up on "Saturday Night Live."

+ Mom at the Skylight bookstore in Los Feliz insisting to her son that it's pronounced "David MAH-mayyy," because it's pronounced "Stephen Col-BEARRR."

+ Burnt pancakes. Oh, how I tried...

Gourd

Today I am going out of my gourd. Because I am not in proximity to my gourd, please keep an eye on it. (It may or may not look like the gourd pictured.)

Charge It

Why not buy the Brooklyn Bridge with your fake money with a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge on it?

Sometimes It's You

Nuns and quintuplets: totally unrecognizable from their place in hiding, wearing wimples and looking like four other people.

Keeping Up With the Joneses

One would hope that a movie titled "The Joneses" would be a hard-hitting look at the perils of conspicuous consumerism, but it only gets about halfway there. Without having to decry "spoiler alert!", it can be said that a couple of obvious fingers are wagged in the film, but because embedded in the movie are both caveats and whalefuls of product placement, it's easy to walk away without much more than an aspiration to someday have a Van Cleef and Arpels ring. I wanted to see the one character who ultimately resists the Jonesification to rent a small apartment, wear a solid-color t-shirt, and spend time jogging or reading a book. I wanted those things to be shown as unglamorous but pretty satisfying. I wanted to feel the spaciousness of it, the relief of being off the treadmill. The way it feels to get just what you really need, and nothing more.

Hooray for Hollywood

The Hollywood sign is officially saved! Or rather, Cahuenga Peak, the land surrounding it, is officially bought and added onto Griffith Park, preserving it from developers for good. Hugh Hefner, recognizing anything unproportionately large and rounded, stepped in with the final $900,000 needed. As my talented comedienne friend Fortune Feimster points out in her stand-up set, while activists the world over work on issues of war, famine, and other injustice, LA activists' happy ending came in garnering a $12,000,000 sign. It's true that sometimes those nine letters feel like they're holding the whole town together; like tenterhooks on a celebrity nose job; and nice to know I won't look up to be re-inspired and have to face off with a cell phone ad instead. If you close your eyes halfway you can still see Katharine Hepburn riding around in a jalopy, dressed in dungarees with a monkey on her shoulder...

Plastic Surgery Isn't a Good Idea?

The New York Times pointed out something on Friday that we facial-expression enthusiasts have felt all along: plastic surgery actually isn't a good idea. The NYT article, which can be read here, deals specifically with actors--and yes, primarily the female of the species--and how getting nipped and tucked can ruin your chances of a great career as much or more than raising them. There are period pieces and the requirements of 3-D technology, yes, but there's also the fact that our job as performers is to show human experience in our faces; to not just stand in, masked by botulism. I think of it this way: any face a baby wouldn't be able to read, respond to, and feel loved by, is no face to act with. In an argument with a male model, who took the stance that a woman with huge breast implants could be just as lovely a person as anyone else, I countered that while she may be kind, sweet, or charming, those beach balls state her values louder than any words she could say. In the words of a FOX casting executive about such an individual, "She's just not for me, then."

Working from Home

Welcome to my home office! I know, I haven't made my bed yet. That is the couch where I will spend several hours running lines to prepare for tomorrow's shoot. That is the desk where I will do rewrites on an FBI spoof concept a friend came up with. There's my wardrobe for the character of irate tax auditor; which blue shirt is better? Could you take the potatoes out of the oven? Dance break: "Your Love is My Drug"! Back to creating the promotional materials to mail...and no staring at the clock. There's no such thing as a quitting time.

My Friends Michael

The city of Angels must be filled only with people named Michael...because that's what just about all of my friends here are called. Relating any story of a weekend prior is somewhat complicated. Amy: don't change a thing.

In Case You Were Interested In A Website That Spies On You

Thanks to a friend's heads up, I discovered Spokeo.com. Don't be fooled: that cute blue hedgehog standing in for an "o" is actually a corporate spy! Spokeo collects various facts about you and posts them up for anyone to find. More detailed information can be had for a price, but even without extra coin there are addresses and phone numbers and key statistics. You can remove yourself from the site by clicking on the "Privacy" link on the lower right hand side, but first you might want to review what's being said about you. In my case, that I have children and am not interested in politics. What? Other choice information included that I do not have central heating in my apartment, and that I am a Scorpio. Children? Apolitical? Scorpio? Okay, it does get cold in the winter. The best little bit was this: "is self-driven." What are you going to do with that, marketers? Let's see what you can sell me and call internal motivation.

Five Star Rating

After two solid years of busting every move I could think of to get myself in to a certain casting office, I finally got into one of their workshops! Sunday I was a knee-deep in a tube of red Dior lipstick, running lines like a madwoman in service of landing myself a role on "Mad Men." This particular workshop joint features written evaluations, and hoping not to get slapped on the wrist with teacher's ruler I cringed at the thought of it. Yet after a lovely two minutes in the audition room, I walked out with my report card...and my perfect score. A long row of all 5s: "exceptional"!

So, yes, that is what is hanging on my fridge. Pass the hors d'oeuvres and pour me another glass of wine. I am both thrilled and now need to sleep for a couple of days!

Successful Screening of "April"!

Yesterday I attended the UCLA screening of "April," a 22-minute film about a high school girl who just can't seem to fit in...could it be her lack of pulse? I was excited to finally see my performance as Mary Lennox, government-appointed social worker, on the big screen as well as to laugh my pants off at all the talented, funny actors populating the movie. Festival circuit, here we come!

Things I Learned On Set Today: Lowe's Magazine Edition

Shooting a scene for a movie in a Lowe's hardware store, I killed some time reading their selection of notably obscure periodicals. In these magazines were pages filled with facts that perhaps needed to be read:

+ If you put banana in a smoothie, it makes it thicker. If you add ice to a smoothie, it makes the smoothie fewer calories. If you put cocoa in a smoothie, it tastes like chocolate.

+ Not just men, but also women, lose their hair. Women should feel more bad about this, because they are supposed to look pretty and can't just wear a baseball cap or shave their head. Women can spend $495 on a brush that beams red lasers into their scalp, which may or may not stimulate growth.

+ Here's how to build a contemporary shed. If you are looking to build an old-fashioned shed, don't look here. This will now be explained for 368 pages.

+ This is a magazine all about eating chicken.

+ This is a magazine about feeling bad you are overweight, which you might purchase while shopping at a hardware store.

+ Steve Carell is just as loveable in person.*

*Not in magazine, but rather discovered in real life.

In Which the Comedienne is Swayed By Thrills

Between being spooked from seeing "The Ghost Writer" and overwhelmed by preparing for waking up at 4:30 AM to head out to set, I'm in a furrowed-brow, heart-racing sort of state. As in this new "I just woke up and want brunch!" commercial headshot, I feign composure. Acting is not unlike tightrope walking; i.e. traversing nerve cells and dendrites with studied control. I'm pulling wardrobe and calculating alarms and transit like I'm staging more than the tedium of life. Which is indicative of the heart-racing: underneath these antics is just plain love.

In An Attempt To Not Have to Work In An Office, I Photograph As An Office Worker

And Now For A Serious Message

Got crossed out: couldn't have been too important.

New Headshots!

For those of you with "real" jobs, imagine if your entire day-to-day career came down to a 1" x 1" square photo of you on a computer screen. Hence, the need for new shots as soon as the old ones stop getting you in the door. I'm ready for my yogurt commercial, Mr. DeMille.

Just When I Once Again Want to Break Up With Hollywood, It Brings Me Roses

The words you try not to hold your breath for, after a casting professional watches you perform:

You're in the right line of work.

I think I made that giant gaudy porcelain player's mask on the wall proud.

Once Upon a Laundromat

Gents, if you fear being untoward with compliments about our most obvious lady attributes, take a piece of advice from a spunky septuagenarian I chatted with at the laundromat today. A dashing television host once picked her out of a lineup of pinups to have on his show. "Did you find her in a crackerjack box?" a terribly rude caller asked. "No!" he said, "I'll tell you why I picked her, other than that she smells awfully nice...I'm just queer for ankles! And she's got the best pair I've ever seen!"

Cosigns

On my way to a meeting with a photographer this afternoon, everywhere I drove there was one film or television production or another buzzing along. Aside from the obvious Honeywagons, craft services trucks, and massive lighting equipment, these events are signified by square yellow signs with large block lettering on them. Shorthand for arriving crew, they instruct you where to park by their presence. As I headed into Hollywood I kept track of the messages coming to me from the cosmos:

AUDREY-->

RUSH

HE

PORKCHOP

Am I to stop a man from eating meat? Or is the man in question about as full of life as a porkchop? Perhaps it's a message from Penny: Come back! Forget flying; I'm for pigs writing. And if there's really going to be a movie called "Audrey," me in it...except for the fact that it was filming on the block where I used to live, to which I never want to return. Hollywood Mad Libs, sign by sign.

Medium Pig

Today on the set of "Medium" I got to hang out with a pig (and I don't mean yet another soulless illiterate Hollywood type). Penny, being a versatile actor, was open to starring as male Barney. She looked ever so fetching in her white rope and black eye makeup. Pig! PIG ON SET! Rendering a previously mentally addled moi totally and completely smitten.

I have got to start hanging out in mud puddles more often.

One Bunny Two Bunny

Easter: that time of year when friends get together for brunch and consider buying the overpriced bundles of shiny jelly beans at the cafe counter. How I miss those days in which the holiday meant skipping through the melting snow to see a matinee of "Twilight of the Cockroaches." Thank you, mother and Japanese cinema!

Jobs-in-the-Night

Sleepless me, dear Reader, could use an excuse for all this tossing and turning. I have to be up this early! I'm trading stock on New York time! Or: Yes, I really am going to that 5 AM Bikram class. Or: I am a superhuman who thrives on three hours of Zzzzs; off to write a bestseller!

It's not that I'm knee-deep in the actor's dilemma. No no. I'm just up stitching waistcoats for a trio of amphibians for a 1920s-themed act involving tiny vintage scooters. Sewing takes time. Frogs are slippery.

Spam Talks Back

No I won't, Spam. I know you filmed me when I was sleeping...but I thought you were, too, Computer. Screensaver: go to your room.

Owlways Moore

When I was very young, my parents and I lived with our good friends the Moores in Philadelphia. My father wrote me recently:

HootHoot was a stump, a tree section that was standing in the Moores' yard, that looked like an owl. We named it HootHoot and would look out the window at it. I remember especially how it looked in the snow, with its "ears" sticking up like an owl's.

The ability to turn inanimate objects into friends, appreciation of woodland creatures, love of Moore...thank you, formative years.

We Both Like Products in Boxes!

Ever since those Progressive ads with the lovely and charming Stephanie Courtney began playing, I've had a bee in my bonnet about being in them. I may be a perfectly able commercial actor, but how often do you get to see someone that doesn't look like a straight-up Midwestern catalog cut-out or a polished alpha-dork (male) take to the 15-second screen? Flo is both great and ground-breaking. This month there were open tryouts to win a role in a commercial helping her sell more insurance, so of course I strapped on my red lipstick, Flo-hair and pumped up my girl-nerdiness and headed to the audition. Instead of just the usual suspects, random tourists wandered through like lost cattle, stopping to creepily tell the cameras of their Flobsessions. Hey, it's harder than you'd think to improvise 30 seconds of pitch to an imaginary character while on a glossy white stage facing both casting directors and a throng of foreigners straight off the star-watching bus! As geeky as I was in the swimming pool lighting, I hope those CDs keep in mind the standup bits that preceeded taping...and that I came with enough enthusiasm to drown a gaggle of kindergartners. Cross your fingers that I make it to the next round! You can watch me attempt to help Flo here.

Fake Jon Hamm Sighting

The irresistible Jon Hamm lives in my neighborhood. Naturally, I see him all the time. It's just that it's never actually him. Here comes a car with a swarthy gentleman at the wheel...as it approaches, I see it's fake Jon Hamm. Or a man standing at the edge of a driveway in a dapper jacket: fake Jon Hamm. Mustachioed Jon Hamm, short Jon Hamm, old man Jon Hamm. Asian Jon Hamm, lady Jon Hamm, even dog Jon Hamm. To each I want to tell how much I love their show and dream of being on it, as I give a friendly pat to fake Jon Hamm's walker or a scratch behind his fluffy ears.

My Kingdom for a Kingdom

Between the studio apartment hemmed in by neighbor's Guitar Hero and untoward nighttime calls, and a so-called friend recently thieving some of my intellectual property, I cry out for a kingdom of my own. Then comes Census 2010, in which all Americans are (supposedly) accounted for. The poll makes it clear you may not have a permanent location; still, you need to be counted in. From whence do I come and whither shall I go? This is the stuff of midday naps, as one gathers strength to find out how to come home.

STARmeter Up 1,116%!

"STARmeter rankings provide a snapshot of who's popular based on the searches of millions of IMDb users. Updated weekly, these rankings also graph the popularity of people over time and determine which events affect public awareness," says IMDb. The Internet Movie Database tracks it all, and provides weekly analysis of whose star is rising or falling. Having your rating swoop up means that in the last week you were searched for significantly more than in the week prior. Does it mean much, unless you're in the top ten or hundred? Maybe not. Nonetheless, I've got a smile on my face. Thanks, fans! (All three of you.) Keep clicking!

The Marriage Ref

Larry David, Madonna, Ricky Gervais: the last people I'd take relationship advice from. Then again, I don't have a costume-wearing lizard that trumps my husband or my dead lover's fake leg in a closet. I never thought I'd say this about a reality show, but I love "The Marriage Ref."

New Rules for Models

After experiencing today's print model audition for Disney, I have come up with some rules that ought to be enforced here-on-out. Models may not have their own union to corral and protect them, but here's the short list of my personal instructions:

1. Do not end any sentence with a preposition. Please employ standard English. I am not going to dignify your question by telling you 'where the audition's at.'

2. Do not operate under the assumption that you are funny and can execute impressions. Do not attempt an impersonation without changing your tone, vocal patterning, facial muscles, or general demeanor. Do not look around the room proudly after you have done so, assuming you are a comedic genius, merely waiting to be discovered while being photographed in jeans.

3. Do not mock the rest of the world by eating ice cream as you wait to have your fatless body fetishized by casting directors. Seriously. Especially not mint chip.

I Am An Expert Email

How do so many recent "experts" have my email address? These people, who I have never met, claim to know all there is to know about nutrition, yoga, meditation, enlightenment, and the entertainment industry. Part of what's comical is how each one writes as if they alone hold the key to my happiness, followed by a fee for a seminar/book/MP3/consultation. If you responded to each email with exuberance--the answer to my problems has come!--you'd do nothing but hand over credit card numbers to an endless parade of the recently anointed. Colon hydrotherapist who will help you find God! Yoga teacher who trains you to see through your elbows! Creator of subliminal tapes who will take you back out of menopause! Guy who bussed here yesterday will get top agents to sign you!

I should write them back. Thanks for your contact information, I'd say. Just send me your bank routing number. You'll appreciate the great offer I have to give, to teach you everything you've yet to learn. Such a deal, you say? I may be the ruler of the free world, but I am still benevolent.

Just Look At Yourself

"You're not pregnant," said the woman working at the pet store. "So why are you wearing a maternity dress?"

How did she know?

Look, it was $4 on sale at Target, and I bought an extra-small. So I'm the size of an extra-small pregnant woman; so what? Yeah, it's like wearing a sack, but it's not like there's a baby-shaped pouch where a baby would go. I'm a recessionista: cheap dress, no baby inside.

Meanwhile back at the acting studio, they've started offering a new feature where they tape all our workshops and give us access to the tape. Reviewing your work from the night before has many benefits; you consider the difference between what you thought you did and what you actually did. The lighting and production values distort you some, but nonetheless, your performance stands. The only question left is the eternal one: Do you see what I see?

Dustbuster!

All supposed huge causes of happiness, show some respect for the little things that make us (dare say I?) just about as thrilled in the moment. The ability to bust dust in handheld form is now mine: and it's red as a lobster! I will be using my new baby to eradicate dirt, doubt, and nagging suspicions. Those fears are never right anyway; like a hairball, they sit on the carpet trying to attach to the heels of shoes. Calling on the visions of the surrealists, I may employ a little Dali to redo such mental food chains.

Shoutouts

Hey, Apple: when you launch iScroll, I hope it comes with a trumpeting medieval page.

Hey, SoBe Life Water: actually, water is "life water."

Hey, Hands: you book that national commercial tomorrow. For once, Face is off the hook.

You Know You're Jewish When

...It's Friday around 3:45 PM and you start craving challah. I may be a bad Jew but I'm still tuned in. Genetic and cultural imprint, you make me hungry.

I'd better buy some potatoes for when my Irish roots come a-knocking on the 17th.

Also some hot sauce. Because I ran out of it.

Happiness Farm

My best friend Krista came from Amsterdam to visit and brought me a happiness farm. For happiness, clearly one must have a cow, horse, tractor, and tree. If you think you can't put a price on happiness, well, that may be true; but the farm that makes it is 1 Euro 49.

Somewhere There's An Island With Our Name on It

And now for a shout-out to the concept of vacation, and ideally, being taken on one. Open air! Taupe sands! Azure seas! I know I live in Los Angeles with its southern California weather, but I dream of respite off the hamster wheel just like everybody else.

Behold, As a Young Woman Strains To Stay Awake Past Eleven

Someday, perhaps my friends will have their shows around the same time as the early bird special. My iron-clad bedtime and I would like that. Zzzzz...what!? Yes, I'm getting dressed to head out to Upright Citizen's Brigade Theater...

Oscars 2010

Here are the votes I'd most like to make this year:

BEST PICTURE: "District 9." Avatar, schmavatar. Besides, we all know how I feel about claw hand.

ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE: Sharlto Copley for "District 9."

ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE: Meryl Streep for "Julie & Julia." Who knew there was that much comedic genius in the gold standard of acting...and yet, who's surprised?

ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE: Mo'Nique for "Precious." Also, Mo'Nique for "Phat Girlz," Mo'Nique for standup, and Mo'Nique for coolness.

ANIMATED FEATURE FILM: "Fantastic Mr. Fox." A most adorable and satisfying film from Wes Anderson.

DIRECTOR: Pedro Almodovar. I know, I know; he wasn't nominated. So what?

FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM: "Broken Embraces."

Everyone Deserves Love, Even If They Don't Have a Pulse

Today I filmed my scenes in "April," in which I play a government-appointed social worker on the case of an adopted misfit high school student, who happens to be a zombie. Shot in mockumentary style, I was interviewed about the case; fantastic director Mike Piccirillo had me doing both straight takes and off-the-cuff improvs. Comedy and the undead: this is what it takes to turn me into an eager beaver, driving down the freeway at 4:45 AM.