Feeling Fluish?

I completely convinced myself that I had the stomach flu on Monday, the day of the callback audition.  I had no idea that I had such power over my own stomach.  The day started out fine – nerves, of course – but there was nothing I could prepare for the audition, so all I could do was play with Moo and wait for 7:30 p.m.

As that time grew closer, my stomach started turning cartwheels.  A volcano began to rumble inside my small intestine.  I got dizzy and shivery.  Moo and I ended up spending most of the afternoon in the bathroom, and I kept warning her – “Mommy might throw up in the toilet, sweetie, but it will be okay.”

Finally, Herbie got home, and I clung to him, moaning.  “I know you probably think it’s just nerves,” I said, “And I wish it was, but I really think I have the flu.”

Herbie felt my forehead.  “Am I hot?”

“Maybe…” he said.  I could tell he wasn’t convinced.  I didn’t know if I wanted him to believe me or not.  If he could convince me it was just in my head, maybe it would just vanish and I wouldn’t have to worry about passing out or throwing up at the callback.  But at the same time, I didn’t want him to think I was crazy – plus, I wanted him to feel sorry for me.

The nausea increased.  “I have to lay down,” I said.  Herbie’s brow furrowed.  I wasn’t trying to get out of going to the callback.  I desperately wanted this ickiness to go away so I could do my best, but I just knew that I had picked up a big bad virus and might not be able to make it through the audition.

Somehow I managed to get dressed and curl my hair.  I kissed Moo and Herbie goodbye, clutching my stomach.

“You can do this,” Herbie assured me. 

“Oookay…” I whimpered.

I sang all the way to the audition while my stomach continued to flip-flop dangerously.  Finally, I pulled into the parking lot.  A friend of mine greeted me while I climbed out of the car, trying to shake off the feverish shivers.  We walked toward the building, I opened the door,and -

It went away.  Poof!  I felt perfectly fine.

I am, in fact, a crazy person!

What’s Your Secret? Just Lucky I Guess

I GOT IT!!!!!!!!!!!

Pant, pant, pant, pant.

I got the call as I was driving home.  Actually, I think I may have gotten the call as I was exiting the parking lot!  I was loitering outside for a while, chatting away, and when we noticed one of the auditioners come outside and open his phone, we realized it was time to skedaddle.  A few moments later, I had a voicemail.  Success! 

Yes, I cried a little.

So it’s official! I’m “Woman #3″ in “The World Goes ‘Round.”  It’s a very small show, just five actors singing the songs of Kander and Ebb, and people – I have a solo!  I think more than one!  Holy shit!

So yes, I’d say callbacks went pretty well.  We were a fairly small group, and everyone seemed very nice.  First we danced, led by – let’s call the director Mary after “Mary Poppins,” since she choreographed the movie.  I think I love her.  She led us through some simple steps, directing me to “do it like a singer, not a dancer.”  Then the music director, Fawna, put us in groups and had us sing three part harmonies, which was rather torturous, but I think we all felt that way.  Finally she had each of us sing a song from the show.  On the drive out, I sang along to the soundtrack, and there was only one song, “How Lucky Can You Get,” that I thought – oh jeez, I hope they don’t ask me to sing this song.

So of course, that’s the song I had to sing.  It’s an incredible song – made famous by Barbra Streisand in “Funny Lady” (thank God I didn’t remember that before the audition) – fun to act, and even more fun to sing if you can belt that one high note near the end (“What’s your secreeeeeet?”) - which I cannot.  But I did my best.

And I guess that was good enough!

So incredibly, I’m two for three.  (Never heard from the Sweeney Todd folks.)  How did I get here?  I’m so happy – and yet I can’t help think about all those years, those many, many years, when I was too afraid to audition.  How could such a silly fear have such a huge hold on my life?  What could I have accomplished?  I don’t want anything to change about my life – my Herbie, my Moo – and yet I can’t help but wonder what might have been… what if I could have found success on Broadway, and still somehow met Herbie and had Moo?  What if?

But whatever might have been, is not.  I have my family, I am so very lucky, and for the first time in such a very long time, I feel proud of myself.

Dress for Movement

As per my experts’ advice, I called back my callback, who told me, yup, come dressed for movement.

What does that mean, anyway?

Well, it definitely means that I cannot, as Kate recommended, arrive wearing what I wore yesterday, because I cannot even sit in those jeans, let alone move in a dancelike manner.  I had to unbutton them just to drive there, and then of course I forgot that my jeans were unbuttoned until I was almost to the door and had to duck behind a palm tree to button up.

So what to wear?

I only have two pairs of jeans – very uncomfortable, can’t-sit-down jeans, and very comfortable jeans that stretch out after 20 minutes and make me look like I have a saggy bottom, or like I pooped in my pants. 

But I don’t think I’m supposed to come decked out for dance, am I?  AM I?  I don’t really have any cute dance clothes, anyway.  I think it’s going to have to be the poopy pants jeans.

Complicating matters even further, I REALLY WANT TO BE IN THIS SHOW.  “The World Goes ‘Round” – I have the whole soundtrack now, and I love every single song so much (except for “Cabaret,” which sounds like a cover by Manhattan Transfer).  I NEED to sing these songs.  Ohhhh I want it so badly.  And I’m dying to work with this director – I know I could learn so much from her.  I mean, remember that scene in “The Sound of Music” when Liesl goes leaping from bench to bench in the gazebo while it’s pouring rain outside?  I remember watching that movie as a little girl, watching Liesl leap high into the air again and again, and thinking, “I want to learn how to do THAT.”  And the choreographer of that moment is directing the show!  Oh, oh, oh. 

I want it too much.  I know I do.  It will hurt if (when?) I’m rejected.  But I guess it’s like the song goes - ”One day it’s kicks, then it’s kicks in the shins – but the planet spins, and the world goes ’round and ’round and ’round and ’round and ’round and ’round… ”

A Query for all the Actors Out There…

Um, excuse me, what happens at a callback?

BECAUSE I GOT ONE!!

Weeeeeee!

Just as I was leaving my second audition, feeling a little blue (they were not so impressed, I think), I turned on my phone.  Voicemail!

(And this is the part where I hopped in a circle like a bunny in the middle of a parking lot.)

I got called back for “The World Goes ‘Round” at Desert Foothills Theater.  Oh joy!  Oh bliss!  Ohhhhh no!  What happens at a callback?  What do I do?  And am I supposed to call back my callback and tell them that, yes, I accept this callback and called back to tell you so?

Am I supposed to prepare another song?  Are they going to make me sing with other people and expect me to read music and sing harmony?  Oh dear!  Not so good at that, right off the bat.  Eep.  Eep.  Are we going to dance?  SHOULD I WEAR A LEOTARD?  WHAT ABOUT LEG WARMERS?!

Hop, hop, hop, hop, hoppity hop hop.

#2 – The World Goes ‘Round, Desert Foothills Theater

Hey!  That actually went a little better than “I didn’t die!”

In fact, that audition may have actually gone pretty well!

I was a complete mess beforehand, pacing back and forth in the hall, tap dancing nervously – and then I remembered Kate Winslet – “Gather.”  So I mentally grabbed the fragments of my mind that were flying all out of control and reined them in.  I took a deep breath, and then they called my name.

As soon as I walked in the door to the audition room, I felt fine.  Sure, I still didn’t know if I was going to be able to hit the right notes, but I remembered something important as the director and musical director greeted me:  People are generally nice.  These folks are not setting me up for failure, and they really don’t want to laugh and point fingers at me.  They want me to do well.

So I handed over my headshot and resume (“Nice headshot!” said the director - Thanks Rosalind!) and gave my music to the pianist.  The director looked over my resume for a minute, commenting on AMDA and my numerous dance classes.  “Gather, gather, gather!”  I thought.  I decided not to include 15-year-old theatre credits on my resume.  Instead, I put a little sentence at the top about how I was giving this whole ding-darn theatre thang (no, that’s not what I wrote) another shot, and included just “Kiss Me Kate.”  The director skipped down to the “Special Skills” section on my resume and laughed out loud.  “Listen to her special skills,” she said.  “Dancing in high heels, staying far away from backstage drama, making my 2-year-old laugh, rocky road brownies.”  They all laughed.  Whew!  I thought maybe that was too cutesy, but I’ll take a laugh anyway I can get it.

Finally, I sang.  I was doing pretty well, and then the keyboard shorted out right before my big money notes.  They spent a few minutes fixing the keyboard, and then asked me to sing the song again.  Then they asked me to sing another song.  And then the director said she’d like to hear me sing yet another song.

“One from the show?” I said hopefully.  “I’m pretty familiar with ‘Cabaret,’ or ‘Colored Lights.’”

They picked “Colored Lights,” which thank God I had downloaded just yesterday and listened to over and over again.  It’s a lovely song and in the sweet spot for my voice – I think I sounded – well, not bad.

“So what else do you do?” asked the director.

“I’m a mom,” I said.  “And…I write.  And take dance classes whenever I can fit them in,” I answered.  Pretty boring.  I should have said something witty.  Or I should have gushed about how I would be so excited to work with her (this is the woman that choreographed the movie Mary Poppins!  The chimney sweeps, for God’s sake!!).  But I just smiled and felt like I was 12 years old, and she asked if I was available for callbacks tomorrow night.

“YES,” I said, dripping saliva.

And for a moment, I really thought she was going to tell me to come to callbacks right then.  But instead, she kicked me out, “So we can talk about you.”

Well.  Whew.

Unlike the last time I left an audition, I did not feel the immediate need to stuff my face with jelly donuts.

That’s got to be a big improvement, right?

Off to Audition #2!

You Have No New Messages

As time ticks on, I feel more and more certain I won’t get a call.  Dance didn’t matter to them before, so why would it now?  And now I know that it was a mistake to try singing in my higher register, which I’ve never done in public before - why the hell did I choose my first audition to challenge myself like that??  I should have belted in my lower register, where I’m more confident.  For those of you who aren’t terribly familiar with singing parlance, higher register basically means, “tra la la lalalalaa!”  And belting means, “DA DA DA DA DAAA!”  I’m sure you’re totally clear on that now.

But anyway, as my imminent rejection draws closer, I’m realizing that I had forgotten just how crappy rejection feels.  It feels, like, really crappy.  Maybe even shitty.  And I hate how I traipse around the house keeping the phone right by my side, even though deep down I don’t think it’s going to ring.

I guess maybe there was a little part of me that hoped my deeply prejudiced loved ones, Herbie and Rosalind, were right and I’d get cast right away.  Maybe even a lead role!  So silly.  It’s funny how even in the midst of great self-doubt, you can imagine yourself as the next stage superstar.

Shoot.  Guess I’m going to need to learn to handle rejection better – I mean, I’ve only been rejected at auditions like three times – professional actors face rejection every day!  Jeez, get a spine, woman!

At least Moo is napping, or pretending to nap, which is the best excuse I can think of to go grab a nap myself.  And hope to be awakened by a ringing phone.