Audition Nightmare

May 17, 2010

I had a dream that I went to my Phoenix Theatre audition (next Sunday), and there were about 10 pregnant women there, including Oscar nominee Vera Farmiga.  I have no idea why my subconscious is interested in Oscar nominee Vera Farmiga.   But in my dream, I instantly knew that with 10 pregnant ladies present, any orginality or excuses I had about my performance were out the window – plus – Oscar nominee.  Crap. 

Then it turned out that we weren’t actually going to be performing for our auditions – instead, it was a written test.  So we had to write down, from memory, the lyrics to both songs and the text of the monologue.  Unfortunately I hadn’t memorized my monologue, and also I had to go to the bathroom.  When I got back, they announced that anyone who hadn’t finished was eliminated.  I begged to be given another chance (after all, I’m pregnant!  I can’t help it if I have to go to the bathroom all the time!) – but the lady in charge pointed at all the other pregnant ladies, and then pointed at the door.

Vera Farmiga got to stay.

I know why I had this dream – because I haven’t been preparing like I should, and because Rosalind gave me a long lecture on Saturday about how I would regret backing out, should prepare as best as I can this week, and basically just stop whining and get some balls.  She even threatened to show up next Sunday and drive me there herself.  So after the lecture and the dream, I took advantage of some time alone to pick up my monologue and start memorizing.

Then I practiced my songs, and I made a startling discovery.  I can’t sing!  I have no idea where my diaphragm is – you know, that handy muscle used for breathing – but it’s not where it used to be, and I suspect that a tiny pair of knees is currently embedded in it.  So I have to gasp for breath between each rasped note, and I just cannot sustain a note for the life of me.  I am going to look like a gasping blowfish washed up on the beach (and wearing sensible heels).

…Maybe they’ll find me amusing?

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Bad Dream

July 23, 2009

For two years, I was spared of bad dreams about Moo. As someone who remembers all her dreams, I was grateful. Then, right at 2, they hit with a vengeance. Lately, I keep having dreams that Moo is missing.  She’s there one second, playing Tigger and Pooh, then she vanishes. I tear around screaming her name.  (Which would be kind of funny if her name were really Moo, because everyone around me would just think I was a crazy cow lady.)  Sometimes I realize it’s a dream, and I start screaming “WAKE UP!” to myself because I feel like my entire body is going to break apart from terror.  Sometimes I never figure it out, and struggle to call 911 (why do the numbers keep moving around?!), or do something ridiculous like look for her under the sofa cushions.

Then a small “coo” wakes me up and I lay there sweating for a moment, before I leap out of bed to check on her as she naps. It’s all I can do to leap into her crib and cover her with kisses.

Serves me right for taking a nap while my poor husband slaves away at the office…

Kung Fu Dreaming

October 1, 2008

Poor Herbie.

Not only did he fall while hiking this morning, scratching up his hands and arms, but he also woke up to a screaming wife in the middle of the night and was forced to karate-chop her in the neck.

Ow.

I was dreaming that I was in a Tom & Jerry cartoon (I was Tom).  Jerry and I had been fighting (duh), and then he ran off to go get his alien friends to take me away.  All the doors and windows were locked and I knew the aliens were going to arrive any second and turn my cartoon brain to goo, so I started sreaming, “Help! Help!” over and over again.  Then the front door burst open, and there stood these two tiny (but very scary!) aliens all bathed in greenish glow.

So I screamed.

And woke up to Herbie shouting, “Whooooa!” and karate-chopping me in the neck.  I wonder what his half-asleep brain thought he was accomplishing with that karate chop?  Was it meant to be an extremely efficient wake-up call?  Or perhaps Herbie was dreaming about Afro Samurai, and his brain followed a natural progression – fighting afro samurais one second, and then waking up and going kung-fuey on the screaming enemy next to him.

Either way, even though I huffed and puffed at him and wiggled away when he snuggled up to comfort me (“too hot,” I muttered, but I think I was just miffed about the kung fu), Herbie still rubbed my back until I fell back asleep, which took quite a while, because tiny, brain-melting aliens are really quite terrifying.

See?

 

**Okay, actually that little green mouse alien looks pretty cute.  But I’m just in a You Tube mood.

**UPDATE:  Oh no, the aliens are onto me! They found the You Tube video and next they’ll find me!  Ahhh!