The Broom and the Doom

February 17, 2009

As Herbie predicted (smartypants), I came home last night with a smile on my face, humbly admitting that he was right and I didn’t humiliate myself.  Not that it was easy.  For three hours, every muscle in my body strained and tensed in an effort to help my brain and voice follow the harmonies and hit the right notes.   I got a headache the instant I got back in the car to go home.  Poor tired brain.  Luckily, we were mostly all in the same boat (the S.S. Oh God What’s My Note Again?) as far as learning the music, except for Julie, who is blessed with an extensive background in singing and the vocal chords of an angel.

I have to say, when we all hit the right notes, it sounds pretty magical.  Even stupid “Cabaret.”  We spent almost a whole hour picking through Cabaret note by note, and I found out that I’m the lucky one who almost always get stuck with the wackadoo note in the chord (also called the “dissonant” note, but I prefer “wackadoo,” or even “effed up”).  I kept having to ask for my notes for “the broom” and “the doom” over and over again, until I felt that the Glare of Utter Disdain would soon shoot over Fawna’s shoulder, so I shut my mouth, and didn’t mention that I hadn’t been singing when we finished and Fawna declared, “Oh, that sounded wonderful!”

But that was just one hiccup in the evening.  Overall, I think I hit many more correct notes than painful-t0-the-ear notes.  Tonight, we have a pow-wow with the director and we also get measured for costumes, which means I must now throw myself to the ground and do 500 sit-ups, in hopes that my leftover baby-belly will disappear by 8:30 p.m.

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