The year was 2008, and I’d just moved to Los Angeles to pursue my dream of acting in the movies. My dad had flown out with me and was staying for a week to help me get settled in. I knew no one in the city, and for the first time in my life, I would truly be on my own. College has a built in support system of classes, dorms, and clubs that make adjusting to a new life easier, but now, I was discovering the thrill of finding my own way.
Because I’d never been in a movie before, I decided that working as a background actor (extra) would be a great way to get some set experience. So, I set aside my theatre training and spent the morning waiting in line at Central Casting, filling out paperwork, and dreaming of my fabulous life to come. After signing up with a calling service across the street, my dad and I decided it was time to eat. We ended up at Pink’s, a Hollywood legend since 1939. It’s hard to tell which is more famous, the hot dogs or the faces covering the walls. I don’t remember what I ordered, but I remember they were out of sour cream and suggested guacamole instead. It was a revelation. If you are out of sour cream try using guacamole, but I digress.
Perhaps I should have mentioned earlier that I moved across the country without a job. All I had were a couple of major credit cards and a dream. Not the best recipe for success, but a perfect adventure for an almost 23-year-old who does not yet understand the meaning of debt.
I’m sure my dad was trying to be happy and encouraging during our meal. We both thrive in warm weather and places populated by palm trees, so we were having a good day. But, my dad was flying away in the next day two, and I still had no idea how I was going find work.
And, then it happened. My phone rang.
I was booked to be an extra on E.R.!
Suddenly, moving to Los Angeles felt like the best decision I had ever made. I was going to be working on a real television show and getting paid to do something I loved to do. Maybe all my dreams would come true in this magical land.
My dad snapped a picture, freezing this happy moment in time.
While this isn’t exactly a Lana Turner story, when I look at this picture, I remember what it was like to believe that dreams could come true. I think we all need a reminder of that every once in a while.
What reminds You that dreams are possible?
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