Stage One of Stage Name

New decade, new year, new underwear, new me.

For a while now, I've been ignoring the advice of many in regards to a name change.  But after three years of stubbornly clinging to my birth name and not making as much progress as I'd like to have made, I've caved in to the pressures of Hollywood to adopt a more desirable moniker.

Protests of "But this is who I am!", "I'm going to make it as myself or not at all!" and "I don't want to take a bath!" (whoops...don't know how that one slipped in there), have faded away, ushering in a new perspective on the way things work.

A name just isn't a name in this business.  It's an image.  It's a package.  I've been told that people don't quite know what to think of me or where to place me because I don't look the way my name sounds.   If I enter the room as Gukka Stinklestein then dammit!--I'd better be hilarious.  Likewise, if I market myself as Trixie Lixalot--I'd better have the eye-popping, private-stimulating cleavage to show for it. 

Is my name hurting my career?  It's hard for me to admit, but I've personally experienced bias in the audition room due to my surname before.  Who knows how many times the very opportunity to audition has passed me by because of my ethnic-sounding name?  It could be lots of times, or I could be deluding myself into thinking that casting directors don't take one look at my headshot and grimace at the sight before even noticing what I call myself. 

Whatever the case may be, I felt it was time for a change.  A girl can only take so much watching others attain their goals before she determinedly grabs for a piece of that action herself.  I was comforted in my decision by the fact that many of Hollywood's greats go or went by a stage name.  If they can get used to this foreign feeling on the tip of their tongue every time they say it and the unsettling notion that they're being a fake...well, then I can too!

This might be a step in that direction, or it might not make a difference at all.  The only way to tell is to live it, so this whole year will be one giant experiment to see if people are more receptive to me with my shiny new stage name.

A couple things, however, are for sure.  1. I no longer will be mistaken for one of O. bin L.'s harem girls and 2. People will no longer fear me plotting to take out their studio apartments with an explosive device.

After a full month of researching, questioning, testing and junk food binging, one name in particular met all my requirements of ethnic ambiguity, melidiousness, and singular ownership.  So, without further ado, allow me to introduce my-new-self: Diana Valure.

*fingers crossed*