Keep Strong and Carry On (or something)

Well, it still stings. 

But great advice and empathy really do help, so thank you very much for your wise counsel.

Now, I pick up the pieces and move on.  I need a better monologue (and I need to take a monologue class, but must feed and clothe children before working on character motivation).  I need to schedule voice lessons, even if it’s only every six weeks, and start working on those “bad habits” my most recent music director mentioned.  And also somehow turn my voice into Sutton Foster’s.  Or Lea Michele’s.  Either would be fine.

I need to continue getting into shape, but unfortunately that means attending Phoenix Theatre’s Summer of Dance classes.  I love those dance classes so much and look forward to them every year (last year I danced four weeks after Juice was born), but I’m afraid I’ll feel a bit loserish attending this year, post-rejection.  But I’ll go anyway.  I just can’t resist a good dance class.

And I’ll look ahead to other possible opportunities.  Although it’s almost an hour-long drive, Fountain Hills Community Theatre is doing “A Chorus Line” this winter.  I would give my right foot to be in “A Chorus Line,” although that would make it very difficult to dance.  Desert Stages Theatre is doing “How to Succeed,” and I love that show, too.

But at the moment, there’s nothing on the horizon, and I feel blue.  Sick kids don’t help.  Rising temperatures don’t help, either.

“Bridesmaids” helped.

Moo singing along to “Seussical” songs helps.

Juice grinning like a maniac and hugging my knees helps a lot, too.

So do those flowers from Herbie….

Okay.  I’ll quit whining now.

Friday the 13th

I realized a few days ago that I wisely scheduled my Phoenix Theatre audition for the evening of Friday the 13th.

Whoops.

I’m in the final stretch of preparations – I have my headshot printed (I think I’m going with black-and-white because my hair is darker now), I have a cute outfit to wear courtesy of Rosalind, and today I had a voice lesson, so I feel fairly prepared with my songs.

The monologue is another matter.   I don’t love it, and I have not yet wrestled it to the ground.  I fear I shall have to subject my children to monologue rehearsals, during which Juice will undoubtedly cling to my legs, whining, and Moo will sit and watch me with that look on her face which clearly says, “Um, Mommy?  I’m just not feeling it, Dawg.”

The best part?  After my audition, I’m getting drunk with Rosalind at the Arizona Biltmore, where we are staying FOR FREE all weekend.  Mojito, here I come!

But before the reward, I have to face the fear of walking into that audition room…again.  Is it going to start getting easier at some point?

Just Kidding

Here is my real headshot, courtesy of EME Photography.  And here’s the real question – color or black-and-white?

Generals

When Phoenix Theatre informed me, via website, that its general auditions would take place at the end of May, I thought that the auditions would occur, you know – at the end of May.  Not three weeks from Friday!  Eeeeeee THUD.

Ever-so-fortuitously, that is also the weekend of my staycation with Rosalind at the Arizona Biltmore,  a grand ol’ resort that I never in my life thought I could afford (Rosalind won a contest…I love Rosalind).  So I am going to get the audition over with early Friday evening, and then get stinking drunk and loll around on my expensive bed all weekend with a bottle of rum.

Audition preparation is deeply, obsessively underway.  I have reached out to my secret connection for some new song material, I am booking an appointment with a voice teacher for some pre-audition coaching, and I am staying up till 2 nightly, reading play after play in hopes of finding a decent monologue.  I constantly sing potential audition songs in the car to Moo and Juice – I love them so, they do not judge me when I don’t quite hit that high note.  And Moo loves to sing along…the only problem arises when I play “Oklahoma” from Dirty Rotten Scoundrels – I have to sing along VERY LOUDLY during the part where she wants to “blow those little FUZZERS HATS right off.”  Ahem.  Sure, that’s what she’s saying.  No, let’s not listen to it again.

I worry that I am placing too much importance on this audition – setting myself up for a deep depression in the future if I don’t at least get a single call back.  The fact is I still don’t have very much experience, but I KNOW I could prove myself if they gave me a chance, and OH MAN I want to work with them so badly.  Almost as badly as Moo wants a Barbie.

Not until you’re 6, Moo.

…I hope I don’t have to wait two more years before I get my shot with Phoenix Theatre.

The Look

a.k.a. The Vanity Post

So my somewhat serious goal, half-muttered to Herbie and Rosalind over various alcoholic drinks, is to take myself seriously with this whole…thing.  Writing, performing… all that stuff.

For the blog – I’m taking steps to make it prettier, shinier.  Less sad slice of white bread, more declicious slice of red velvet cake.  I’m hungry.  I’m trying to write more often, I plan to promote myself, and eventually launch the other theatre-related blog.  And then follow those paths wherever they might lead.

For the performing part – right now, I’m concentrating on my “look.”  Namely, my lack of a look.  When I look around at the other actresses in town, they’ve all got their Thing – a particular sense of style, jet-black hair, lush red hair…something.  They stand out.  And me, I mostly look like a Mom.  And that’s fine, I am a mom.  But if I want to get cast in more shows, I need to stand out from the crowd, and right now I just don’t.

Only problem is, I have no idea how to go about creating my Look, becoming more vividly “me.”  I’m not drawn to only one style of clothes.  And I spend my days chasing little kids, so skirts and high heels aren’t exactly practical.  I think the key might be in the hair, so I recently visited my stylist, but my hair turned out mousey instead of deep, shiny brown.  And it still just sort of lays there on my face, boring.  I think I may need a gay man for this job.

I’ve also recognized that if I’m taking this seriously, then I need to take my body, and the shape of it, seriously.  So I try my best not to eat anything after dinner.  There’s bellydancing, Just Dance on Wii, and yesterday I took my first Zumba class.  Although I don’t know if I’ll ever completely get rid of this little pouch where I carried two children, I’m really looking forward to wearing t-shirts that aren’t baggy and sundresses that cling just a little.  I think I’m on my way.

Bye Bye Burpies?

So…I have an audition tomorrow!

Here’s the thing – I love Juice, and I love Moo, and I love being a mother.  But I got a taste of filling myself up instead of just letting my children fill me up, and I really want some more.  This time around, there’s nothing novel about changing diapers all day long.  I want to be a mother and more.  I want to stretch.  I want to be scared of hitting the wrong note instead of scared about the weird bump on the back of his head (checked it out today – nothing to worry about).

So a few days ago, I read that Desert Foothills Theater is holding auditions for Bye Bye Birdie.  OOH.  I am sucker for the classics.  And the thought crept into my head…what if I tried out?  What if I asked our parents for some help in the evenings?  It’s not…an impossible idea, right?  I tried to shoo away the idea.  I mean, I have a new baby – the thought of being away from him in the evenings for 10 weeks should wrench my heart, right?  But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  I mentioned it to Herbie.  And then I asked our parents.  And now I have an audition tomorrow.

I really do have such a lovely family.

I have an audition tomorrow!  And since I spent most of the week wondering whether I should or shouldn’t try out, I didn’t actually spend any time working on, you know, singing n’ stuff.  And I have absolutely nothing flattering to wear. 

I would be really stressed out, if I weren’t so damn tired.

Dancing Fool

Noooo!

Just when I was feeling better about my impending audition (thanks to some quality rehearsal time and all your support/threats), I got an email from Phoenix Theatre.  Reminder about the audition protocol, what to bring, blah blah, and also information about the dance call.  So – I knew there wasn’t going to be dancing at this audition, and I assumed correctly that dance auditions will be on a callback basis only, but I did NOT realize that the dance callback will take place on May 27.

So if (IF) I got a callback, I’d have to dance…next Thursday??

I thought they’d be closer to the actual production dates – like, next fall or next spring.  Not…next Thursday??!

I think my chances just plummeted.  I don’t know how they could look at me and say, ah yes, let’s bring this lady-about-t0-have-a-baby back in a couple days and check out her grand-jetes.  First of all, I’m sure they’d be terrified my water would break after the first pirouette.  Secondly, I would look completely ridiculous, not to mention I just can’t do what I normally can.  I mean, can you imagine?  All those dancers in their hot pants and heels, flitting about lightly, and then there’s me, with a 25-pound beach ball strapped on my body, bounding along like a gimpy toad and gasping for breath.

Shit.

Head in the Sand

I don’t think I have ever been this unprepared for an audition.  It’s terrible.  I think I didn’t realize that I would have absolutely zero alone-time to rehearse.  Maybe I should be able to practice while it’s just Moo and me hanging around the house, but either she comes in the room and stares at me really intensely while I’m singing, which I find unnerving, or she just talks at me as loud as she can until I give up and agree to be Snow White.  Or she compliments the voice of the person singing on the CD – but no comment on her mommy’s voice.  Sigh.

And maybe I should be able to practice when Moo naps, but I’m afraid to wake her up, and also, I am FREAKING EXHAUSTED.  By the time three o’clock hits, my body is aching and my eyelids are fluttering and I barely have the energy to eat three cookies before attacking the couch with my face.

And maybe I should be able to practice at night when Moo’s in bed and it’s just Herbie and me hanging around, but I just cannot practice in front of Herbie.  It’s not Herbie – I couldn’t practice in front of anyone.  I am not one of those people that can try out my monologue in front of friends and then say, “So whadaya think?”  No no no.  Even if he said nice things, I would be able to see it in his eyes if he thought my performance was pitiful.  Or shameful.  Or embarrassing.

I desperately need a Fortress of Solitude. 

Or can I just cancel it?  Please please can I just oh please cancel it???

Audition Nightmare

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?

More Foolishness

Okay, I officially signed up for general auditions at Phoenix Theatre.  (Theater Works still hasn’t posted their audition dates.)  At Phoenix Theatre, they make you sign up for an audition slot online, and they warn you that audition times GO FAST! so you’d better sign up NOW, and so here I am, one month out, all shivery scared with 31 days to drive myself nuts.

I like it so much better when you can just decide whether you’ve got the guts that same day and either show up or stay home and eat sweet, comforting ice cream.  Now I’m stuck, I gotta go, or else maybe they’ll always remember my name as that chickenshit girl who didn’t show up for her audition…

Also, I have a lot of work to do.  Phoenix Theatre requires a ballad, an uptempo song, and a monologue.  Even with a few auditions under my belt, I still haven’t found one solid audition song, let alone two, and I haven’t done a monologue since….approximately 1995.  And I’m guessing a monologue about a shy girl on her first date isn’t quite appropriate for my age or my…situation.

It shouldn’t be this hard – I should have a wealth of songs to choose from, especially songs from my last show, “The World Goes ‘Round,” since most of them were in my vocal range.  But the powers that be make it impossible!  The music I had wasn’t the actual musical score, so even if I’d copied the music, an audition accompanist would just roll his eyes at me and say he couldn’t play it.  So I could have begged the music director to borrow her official score to sneak home and copy, and maybe I would have felt comfortable doing that with a more…even-keeled music director, but not ours, a woman prone to crying and shouting fits.

Hey, I could buy the score from Amazon for $267!

Or I could try and find sheet music at the library, and that’s where we get to the biggest crock of all.  Say I know that I can sing “Maybe this Time” from Cabaret, in the key that it is sung in the show.  But if I go to the library or music store and pick up a copy of the vocal selections from “Cabaret,” the song will be in an entirely different key than the one they USE IN THE DAMN SHOW.  What is this scam?  What are these sheet music people up to?  Do they just think it’s hilaaaaarious that some poor unsuspecting auditioner might hand over their music to the accompanist, thinking they can totes sing the shit out of their song, only to find that it’s actually way out of their range, leaving them to squeak pitifully at the high notes?  (Yes, that did happen to me when I was 19.)  Sure I can read music a little better now, but it just makes me so furious – why publish the music in a different key?  Why leave us sad hopeful singers in the lurch?

I will surely ponder and stew over this for 29 days and then spend 8 hours in the library the day before my audition trying to simultaneously sight-read music and not have a baby.