Musings of an Aging Ingenue

Hello Darlin', Nice To See You

2011-10-29T15:34:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time. I've been longing to take this up again, but so much time has passed and so much has happened that I haven't known how to sum it all up. So, I'm just going to post the last thing I started but didn't finish, and then I'm going to carry on.

I love to sing. With every fiber in my being I love to sing. And for as long as I can remember I have longed to sing. To sing well. As well in front of people as I do in my car or in my living room with my Xbox Karaoke game when no one else is home. All my growing-up years I sang in some capacity - in choir, in small groups, in school play ensembles - in very safe and blendy environments. But also in all my growing-up years, and now into my grown-up years, I have longed to figure out how to release the sing-song beast that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt is caged up inside me. Without fail, when I try to sing alone with anyone listening, I fear and tremble relentlessly. I have quite literally had experiences where a large number of people were present (think *church congregation*) and I opened my mouth to sing alone for them, and nothing came out of me but air. Soundless air. Ugh. The horror. The unforgettable horror. And yet, I have never been able to accept the idea that such experiences are my unchangeable destiny.

A little over two years ago, I started taking voice lessons. My goals were these: 1) To get to a point where I could sing in front of people and make sound come out, and 2) To audition for a musical. I wanted to learn to sing right, and I wanted to learn to sing well - or whatever "right and well" is for me. I wanted to learn how to manage the awful consequences of nerves that take over every time I open my mouth to sing. I am very okay with never being the worlds greatest solo performer, but I did (and do) want to be able to sing with confidence, in any given moment, the kind of song I was created to sing.

About a year into lessons, in the summer of 2010, I went to two terrifying musical auditions in one week. One was at the same theater where this whole blog began. The other was for a new community theater starting up very near my home. Somehow, for some absolutely inexplicable reason, I ended up being offered the female lead in the very popular, very beloved musical they had chosen for their inaugural production. Naturally, I accepted. Who wouldn't? I did it...performing 5 solos...sometimes in front of nearly 700 people. And we got standing ovations. And yet, I could never shake the belief that I was in over my head. WAY over my head. That because it was a "new" theater, there weren't a lot of ideal candidates to choose from for the role, and I was chosen as the "least objectionable option." It was an amazing opportunity, a tremendous challenge that I managed to meet, and a brilliant addition to my resume. And yet, it was strangely debilitating. When it was over, I felt like I had barely survived, and I wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out. There's no explanation for this reaction apart from madness...so I like to think I went mad for many, many months. I didn't know if I would EVER want to be on stage again.

But alas. I am vain. And needy. And like a child being forced to live among adults and behave in grown-up ways. And the time came when I did so want to be on stage again.

In the last several months I've attended many auditions and been through all kinds of absurd emotional nonsense. I recently almost didn't make it into another show. But an actress dropped out...and I slid in. There was a night that I was driving to rehearsal, and I was overcome with the sense that I was driving home. When I got to the theater, I knew I belonged. Like I was among people, who, whether friend or foe, were like me. Weird. Insecure. Wonderful. I love it. And I want to go to a hundred auditions and maybe nail one of them and I want to write about it...for my own sanity and for my weird, insecure and wonderful friends.

Two Words: Trophy Wife

2010-05-06T20:05:00.000-07:00

About a month ago, auditions were held for an annual 10 Minute Play Festival that I had the privilege of being involved in last year. I wasn't sure if I wanted to audition this year because I have some tricks up my sleeve that I'm trying to master, but Perfect Friend said she was going to audition and it seemed like it could be our best shot yet at being involved in "something" together. Another dear friend of mine who I've been longing to work with again was also auditioning and THEN someone else said to me, "You ARE auditioning, RIGHT?" To which I replied, "Well, duh."

I had a blast at the audition last year; it was a big, giant mess of actors and directors and scripts and randomness and I loved it. This year, the process was entirely different. There were 9 directors present, and each of them was stationed at tables set up around the building. The actors got a list of the plays and what ages/genders were needed for each one. Then we found an open table and sat down with another actor or two to read from the script for the director. The system had its pros and cons. It was good to know that each director definitely got a chance to see me; it was also nice to get to read a bit of nearly every play being cast. However, it was odd not standing or moving much, and I was very easily distracted by what I could hear happening at the tables around me. I was also very distracted by the fact that I was leaving for Disney World the next morning and hadn't even started packing. For the most part, I felt very average about how I was reading...but there was one play that involved an amazing crazy lady that as I was reading I felt something switch ON in me and I was overcome by her very essence. So that was fun.

That night PF and I were talking it all over on the phone, reassuring ourselves and each other that no matter what we would be happy for the other and content with the outcome. While we were talking, she got another call. I waited for her to call me back...but then I had to go to sleep what with the early morning flight and all. The next morning, I listened to her voicemail. Guess what part she was offered? My first selfish, wounded, human thought was, "Come ON! Are you KIDDING me?" And then my second thought was, "I'm happy for her, I'm happy for her, I'm happy for her." Which I was. Am. Then I went to Disney World.

I didn't have access to email on vacation except via my crappy (at the time - I have since upgraded to a dreamy little number) cell phone. At the end of our first night, I got an email from one of the directors who said he liked how I had read for a certain character and he offered me the part. My first thought to that was, "Oh CRAP! I didn't even read for that character! He's thinking of someone else and didn't mean to offer this to me!" And I thought that before I accepted or got excited, I had to clarify that he did in fact have me in mind for the part. I didn't have his phone number so I fumbled out a reply on my phone that I hoped would not look like it had been fumbled out on a phone. He called me the next day and we cleared everything up...he DID mean to offer me the part...and I did accept it. And then I called PF and we rejoiced to some degree and then I went back to Disney World.

I read through the script when I got home from vacation, and was a tiny bit disappointed to learn that I didn't appear until page 8 of a 10 page script. However, my character is described as "absolutely gorgeous" so I just rolled around in that for a while until my ego threatened to kill me. We had our first rehearsal and by the end of it I was amazed by how well things had turned out. It's always best when I am not in charge of what the outcome will be. Our play has a cast of five which means, including the director, I get to work with five new fabulous people that I've never worked with before. They are fantastic, and since I don't appear until the end, I get to watch them and learn from them and laugh with them.

So, to sum up. First, if you have a friend called Perfect Friend, she will probably get the part you are crossing your fingers for. Second, if you have a friend called Perfect Friend, she will believe you when you say you're not bitter and will appreciate that for the sake of literary integrity you must milk the irony of a given situation for all its worth. Third, you don't know what's best for you so take what you're given and stop being such a baby.

Rejoice With Those Who Rejoice

2010-02-24T18:07:00.000-08:00

Apparently my last post was not the bucket of sunshine my faithful readers hope for. As a happier follow-up, I thought I'd share this sweet little audition success story that a friend of mine wrote about recently:

"Went to an audition yesterday, and was a fill in for the old lady in the play for one of the scenes. Of course I went all out on the role thinking I wouldn't get it...hm...Well, I must have done a great job because I got the part!"

This is a friend I made during the aforementioned holiday play 2009. She was one of 5 adults in a cast of about 25. All of the adults had various ensemble roles to play and her primary role was that of the attention deficit family cat. I remember during initial rehearsals being, shall we say, startled, by her tremendous enthusiasm. She meowed and howled and purred and stretched and pawed...as cat-like as any human could be. I remember even cringing a little at one point, wondering if maybe she wasn't a little too over-the-top. But she put every ounce of herself into that cat and she brought something new to every rehearsal. I found myself admiring how creative and adventurous she was willing to be in order to make that darn cat the best darn cat the world had ever seen. And I noticed how every time she rehearsed a scene, the kids in the cast watched her with complete and utter delight.

Once the show opened, it became quite an event for some of the cast to gather around the monitor back stage in order to watch Snowbell the Cat's melodramatic "death" scene. We looked on in eager anticipation, wondering what new agony Snowbell would suffer for our entertainment. During a Q & A with the audience after one of our performances, each of the kids took turns sharing their favorite parts of the production. The most common response was a finger pointed at Snowbell...she had won their little hearts.

On the recommendation of many, I have been reading Michael Shurtleff's definitive guide to auditioning, aptly titled: Audition. He talks a lot about making bold choices and running with them...I think Snowbell's story shows just how powerful boldness can be.

Not Nearly Good Enough

2010-02-18T19:43:00.000-08:00

I ran into a familiar face at an audition this week. We chatted a bit and in the course of conversation I said, "The problem with blogging is that you can't be completely honest." More accurately, you can't say everything you'd like to say. Okay you can. But not if you want to keep your friends. Not that I have anything bad to say about my friends. My friends are just great...but figuring out how to tactfully share less than dreamy experiences has nearly thrust me into permanent hibernation.

Let me just say that contrary to popular belief...not all children are wonderful. Some children are little monsters. In 2008, I had the privilege of being involved in a holiday production that was nothing short of magical. The cast consisted of 22 or so - 17 of which were under the age of 18. And every single one of those kidlets were wonderful. No exceptions. Even the trickier ones were wonderful, "quirky" perhaps, but I loved them with all my heart. Other (grown-up) people involved in the production would comment from time to time about what a unique and remarkable cast we were in how we bonded and played so well together. And I thought that surely they were exaggerating. They were not exaggerating. In 2009, I had the privilege once again to be involved in a holiday production at the same theater. It was not as magical. It was fine. It was fun. It was an honor to be included. Most of the children in the cast were glorious. But there were some children in that show who for the life of me I could not find it in my heart to love...or like...or tolerate. And I feel like a villain for saying it. But it's said. And that is all I will say about the time between the posts.

This week I was unsuccessful at yet another audition, and although I can blame it partially on a fierce respiratory cold, I must largely blame my lack of nerve control and my inability to be present in a given moment. It's ridiculous really, how distraught I am over this when I knew going into it that this particular audition would serve more as a "practice" audition than a viable acting opportunity. Even after I read the play in preparation for the audition, I closed the script and thought, "This play is far too sad. No one I know would want to see it. I don't want to be in it." Then I thought about it like a mature thinking-person and remembered that good doesn't always mean happy. The Glass Menagerie is not happy by any stretch of the imagination but it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. Then I reminded myself that there was little chance of my being cast anyway, and as the only way to get good at auditioning is to audition, I determined to go to the darned thing and do my very best.

The hardest part is not that I wasn't cast...but rather that I didn't do my very best. I was trembly and dull and I think I might have skipped an entire section...but I can't even remember. It is just so exasperating to know that I could have done just heaps better. Unfortunately, a director who's never seen me act could not possibly be aware of that fact.

So I am now scouring for another audition to redeem myself with. Every time I "miss" at an audition, I feel a panic that I am one of those tragic people who thinks they are good at something and everyone around them knows that it's just not so. I cried a little bit last night and said to my dear husband, "I just want to be wonderful at something." To which he replied, "You are a wonderful wife." I guess that counts for something.

Getting Schooled

2009-10-14T16:29:00.000-07:00

I read somewhere that Jack Nicholson was rejected 24 times before landing a part. I believe this to be one of those ridiculous unsubstantiated urban legends that actors use as balm for their rejection wounds. Still, it is absolutely true that anyone who is pursuing a dream with any degree of seriousness (even when their dream is nothing more than a glorified hobby) will face rejection more often than not.

Perfect Friend and I went to Mexico about a month ago. We lounged on the beach, drank mojitos and margaritas, amused ourselves with Mad Libs, and read together through a little gem of a play. PF was very excited about an upcoming audition for it, and I was on the fence about it. When I read through the character descriptions I was faced with a seemingly ever-present dilemma: I didn't "fit" any of them. There are three female characters in the play - one older and two younger. One of the younger is described as a newly married early-twentyish ingenuey kind of girl. The other is described as mid-twentyish and somewhat masculine. People who know me and love me tell me I could "totally" pull of the newly married ingenue. This is very sweet of them, but stand me next to PF, and it becomes quite evident who is the early-twentyish ingenue, not to mention that PF would likely be only one of many pretty young things vying for said role. As for the mannish woman, I like to think that I am a fairly girly girly-girl, but as we read through the script, I started to have a lot of fun with the manly-girl character. So I decided that I would audition, too.

PF went to her audition and then fluttered off to sunny Florida for a week. I auditioned 3 days later and left the audition feeling very good and very mature. For the first time I wasn't kicking myself over all the million things I wish I had done differently. I felt very grown-up as I thought, "I did good. If I don't get cast, it won't be because I suck, but just because someone else is a better fit." On a Tuesday, PF and I both got calls inviting us to callbacks. What with her being in Florida and all, PF couldn't be there, but I went and had a glorious time. And then began the waiting. And at the end of the waiting the result was in: PF = Early-Twentyish Ingenue. Me = Better Luck Next Time. Naturally, there was a bit of a sting...a few moments of self-flagellation...and then I was just really happy for PF and really eager for the next audition.

Here are a few valuable lessons I learned from this particular audition experience:

Never assume you know what the director is thinking. Ever. You are not so very clever.
Never assume that the director will be casting from the handful of people you see at callbacks.
If the audition is awesome enough, the role of a "masculine woman" will go to the most beautiful and feminine woman you've ever seen.
Not being cast does not mean you suck. Remember all those other people at callbacks that you thought were so amazing? They didn't get cast either. Do they suck now, too?

For some unfathomable reason, an audition is the only thing in my life that I am consistently willing to fail at for a taste of the delight found in sporadic, intermittent success. And for some also unfathomable reason, this exhausting cycle of rejection punctuated by occasional acceptance gives me some sense of certainty that I'm doing something I was made to do. Every time, yes or no, it feels like living. And that feels good.

Full Circle

2009-06-23T20:09:00.001-07:00

Tonight was the last chance to audition for an Evening of One Acts. I wasn't planning to go. The show is one "show" comprised of three complete individual one act shows - each with it's own director and cast. Of all the female roles available, I am technically either too young or too old. But, all day, I kept trying to decide whether or not to go anyway. The Evening of One Acts at this same theater last year was my first foray back onto the stage after my 13 year hiatus, and I was feeling a little nostalgic. Still, I couldn't decide if it would be worth going when there were no roles for the likes of me. Then I thought, it would still be good to audition just for the sake of auditioning, and getting accustomed to rejection...things like that. Still, I couldn't decide if it would be worth it.

After work, I went to the mall. The girl who helped me with the dressing room said I looked familiar, and I said she looked familiar, but we decided it was because I shop at that store entirely too often. Then when I was at the counter making my purchase, and she was helping another customer, I said, "I know where I know you from! Were you in the One Acts at Lyric Arts last year?" And she said, "Yes! You were in the beach one!" And I said, "You were in the blue dress!" And I thought...is this a sign? But still, I couldn't decide.

The auditions were to be held from 7-10 PM and it was about 8 when I got home and decided to update my resume and try to print a decent picture of my face. The printer kept refusing to grab the photo paper and I kept trying and trying all the while thinking...is THIS a sign? But finally the printer worked and I got a picture made and a resume printed and I went out the door to go to the audition utterly unprepared.

When I got there, I immediately saw a familiar face - a friend I have been in a couple of shows with and his girlfriend were just leaving. Then the stage manager came out...and lo it was the stage manager from the holiday show I was in last winter! It made me so happy to see her. She read through my side with me and then lead me in.

Just like last year, there were three directors seated at a table in the middle of the room. And Bad Cop was there, too, as I knew he would be, although this time he was GC and he was a familiar friend rather than an intimidating stranger. And I got to read with him...so that was fun. I was sickly nervous...completely annoying. It's good to audition because the more I do it, the more I am reminded that you really only do get one chance to make a first impression. I wish with all my heart that I had made a stronger first impression.

After the audition, the guy who is directing the one act that I read from said, "Jessica, I didn't recognize your name, but I've seen you perform...in Brainerd. I saw you in Auntie Mame. I know your mom and your dad! I'm C- T-." And there was some exchange about "all those many years ago" or something. I was so excited to come face to face with a theater face from the long past. When he said his name, I immediately knew it. I don't know if he and I had ever actually officially met, but I do remember hearing his name in the little theater world I thrived in back then.

What a crazy small world. And to think, I almost didn't go.

Catching Up On What's Old

2009-05-08T17:18:00.000-07:00

I must shamelessly admit that I like my blog. Having let more than two months lapse since my last post, I had to review where I left off, and found myself entertained. I hope that you are entertained as well. This particular post will not be terribly entertaining as it is more a sloppy attempt to catch up than a work of genius.

The great quandary that I face as I try to jump back into this is how to change Bad Cop's name. He has managed to play a greater role in this blog than I anticipated when I named him Bad Cop back in the beginning. I thought about calling him "Joe" or something equally generic, but nobody here has real names so that would be just lazy...so today I am changing him from Bad Cop to Good Cop and abbreviating that to GC. So there. Sheesh.

Back before the 10 Minute Play auditions, GC sent out an email update on current projects he was working on. One of the projects was a 10 minute play he had written and submitted to a play writing competition. It had been selected as a winner and was to be performed at the 4th annual Very Short Play Festival in Northfield, MN. He would be directing it there and was looking to cast it. I asked if I could read the script. It was a fun script that had me thinking "Twilight Zone"- waiting the whole time for a twist of some sort. It did not disappoint. I expressed interest in being cast...and was given the honor.

The weekend of the VSPF IV happened to be the on the same weekend that we were to start shooting the short film. So on that Saturday, I was up at 2:30 AM to be in Bloomington by 4 where we filmed until noon. We carpooled to Northfield that afternoon and ran through the show once on stage then went out to dinner before curtain which was at 8. It was a strange experience to only perform the show once for an actual audience, but it was very well received. My husband had come down to see it, and as soon as we were done, he whisked me home to try for some sleep before the 2:30 AM alarm on Sunday "morning". That weekend, I was very tired.

The short film has wrapped and is now in its editing stage. I will devote an entire future post to that whole deal, so that's all I'll say about it now.

Also in May, rehearsals started for the 10 Minute Play Festival in White Bear Lake, MN. I knew that I had been cast in one of the 10MPs as Amy - opposite, of all people, GC in the role of the flirting philandering fiance. What I did not anticipate was the call that came on the Sunday night following auditions from another director offering me the role of God. I had a whole internal moral battle to fight before accepting the role, and I can say absolutely from this side of the experience that it ended up being a good decision...but I think I will save that for another post as well.

The 10MPF ran through the first weekend of June. We performed to sold out audiences at nearly every show. Apparently they add more performances every year because the festival is so popular. The format works well I guess in this ADD age: if you don't like what you're watching now, just grin and bear it because it will be over in just 10 minutes and we'll give you something new. Or a less pessimistic reason for the festival's popularity might be that it's fun to see the variety among ten different writers, directors, and casts all in the span of two or so hours.

And so after two months and four scripts, I am done. For now. I am home sick today because I think my body decided that it was safe to shut down. Unfortunately, my body doesn't realize that I also have a JOB that needs me to be functional for it. My husband, who is amazingly supportive of my crazy dream chasing, is exceedingly glad to have me back all to himself. For now.

Whee, What Fun!

2009-04-04T15:46:00.001-07:00

I just got home from one of the most fun auditions ever. This was for a 10 Minute Play Festival held annually in White Bear Lake. There are 10 plays which means 10 scripts and 10 directors and over 30 roles that need to be cast. I've really been looking forward to this audition, if only to see how exactly they would manage such a crazy casting scenario.

The auditions were held from 1-4 on a "first come first served" basis. When I got there at about 2:30, I had to park a block away from the theater due to the throngs of cars that beat me to the punch. When I went inside, I was expecting to see zillions of folks milling about, waiting for there turn to read. But, there were no actors to be seen; just a table and volunteers handing out clip-boards and numbered stickers. As it turns out, all of the auditioners were in the theater...together...with all the directors. As I was filling out the paperwork before being escorted into the theater, a woman I recognized said to me, "All your children are upstairs." Apparently a majority of the kids from the holiday play I was in, as well as my holiday Husband, were there to audition. I love those stinking kids so much, and wonder daily if/when I will get to enjoy them again...I had no idea going into this day that today would be that happy occasion. When I got into the theater, the majority of them were sitting on stage taking turns reading for a couple of the "kid" parts. I made my way to the back of the theater and proceeded to make faces at as many of them as I could make eye contact with.

One of my cast mates from my most recent play was also there to audition, and another was there in a directing capacity. The latter approached me an handed me a script and said, "Start reading Fork." So I did. And then I got to go on stage and read as a Fork. Ha! Fun, fun. Even more fun, however, was the rare opportunity to see other actors audition. I love it! My greatest auditioning weakness (as far as I know) is my physicality; I never know how/where/what to move, so I tend to grow roots and try to READ really WELL. This being the case, it is a great treat to have the chance to see more physically competent actors audition, and hopefully pick up a couple of sweet moves from their genius.

During a little directors pow-wow, I got to chat with my "young people" friends (affectionately known by many as the Greenies). I taught them that "Dag Yo" was a really cool thing to say and told them to teach it to their friends. They were totally down. One of them said that she wants to be like me when she grows up...and not "get old". That is the greatest compliment of my life....today.

After the break, I had the chance to read as "God". So..."God" and "Fork". Not bad for a day's work. I believe however, that I have been cast in one of the 10 Minutes as "Amy"...a lovely girl with a charming albeit overly flirtatious fiance. I find Amy to be the perfect balance of God and Fork and am happy to have the opportunity to bring her to life.

Let's see...what else...

Oh, YES! In a thrilling turn of events...my dear Perfect Friend was cast in the short film, so joy of joys, we will get to act together. Assuming of course that no one else flakes out. Okay, in all fairness, having to drop out of a project doesn't automatically make one a flake. Sometimes, I am sure there are very legitimate and valid reasons for having to quit...but I hope with all my heart that this is the end of it, because I really want to do this thing!!!

Bits and Pieces

2009-03-31T18:31:00.000-07:00

The show has come to an end. It is always bittersweet - sweet in the friendships forged and the rest that follows, bitter in the goodbyes that, whether we admit it at the time or not, are inevitably forever. This show was different that the previous two that I have done in the last year in that while genuine connections were made, and a cohesive acting unit was formed, the parting of ways felt relatively painless...as though it was just time to go on.

The short film is still going ahead as planned, with some minor recasting, consisting of, to my absolute delight, a dear friend that I made in the play we just closed. AND, to add to that delight, it is looking incredibly probable that Perfect Friend will be filling another recently vacated role! That piece is not completely set in stone, so we aren't celebrating just yet. But oh boy! Wouldn't that just be something?

Also, I auditioned tonight at a new (to me) theater. They are doing a play written by my dear Agatha Christie, and I had so hoped to audition, but wasn't able to make it to the official auditions. A few days after auditions were held, a friend mentioned that the director was interested in seeing additional actors at her callback, and suggested that I call her, which I did. The director was very candid in letting me know that she had called back several women, and was primarily interested in seeing more male actors, which made perfect sense to me. I think that for every role out there for women between 25 and 40, there must be at least 20 women vying for it. But, she said that she always likes to have a lot of options and as she had never heard me read, I was welcome to come and read at the callback. So I did. I almost didn't, but I did. And I'm so glad I did. I saw one of my new dear friends from the last play, and an old friend from the Agatha Christie one-act I was in last August; and I met a new director who seems like a really tremendous woman, and I got to get over the enormous intimidation factor that this new (to me) theater has always instilled in me.

Another audition looms on Saturday, this one is for a 10 Minute Play Festival, and promises to be an entirely new experience. The 10 Minute Plays are all original new plays (as far as I know) being performed for the first time. I can't really figure out how to prepare for this one, so I guess I'll just go and see what happens. If I can keep auditioning like this, maybe I won't even need to be in another show.

Cast Parties and 3 AM Phone Calls

2009-03-23T07:29:00.000-07:00

Friday was insane. I had taken the day off work because I wasn't sure if I was going to be sleeping that night and I wanted the option of sleeping all day. But sleeping all day didn't happen...I did make it until about 10, which was impressive I guess. The rest of the day was spent racing around trying to get everything squared away in time for the show that night at 8, the cast party afterwards, and the 4 AM call for the first shoot on the short film.

My character in the film is the opposite of my actual character, and the stage directions (can anyone clue me in as to what the screenplay term for "stage directions" is?) indicate that she is "immaculately dressed and perfectly coiffed even at this early hour"...the early hour being around 3:00 in the morning. I don't do "immaculately dressed" or "perfectly coiffed" in real life and as I was responsible for providing my own wardrobe...I was desperately trying to pull together some options that could fool a camera into thinking otherwise. I had found an amazing pencil skirt suit...but it was blue...and I only have black shoes...and the other wardrobe option I had would work with black shoes...and I didn't want to invest in another pair of shoes if I could make the same pair work with all of the clothing. So much of Friday was spent running around trying to find accessories that would agree with my assessment that black and blue are neutrals that can be worn together if properly accessorized. I know that Stacy and Clinton would agree with me that it's possible. I just know it. I managed to find what I was looking for, and then realized that an "perfectly coiffed top advertising executive" probably wouldn't have mismatched, chewed up, uneven fingernails. So I was able to justify getting my nails done. Then, I had to get my hair in curlers with enough time for the curls to form before picking up my carpool buddy for our 7 PM call for the show that night. Oh, and I had volunteered to bring cheese and crackers to the cast party...which I had intended would consist of delicious cheeses like brie and smoked Gouda...but instead ended up consisting of pre-sliced cheddar and swiss from Target.

So, I was a bit frazzled by the time I got to the theater; but I was ready, and I was excited...and I was tired.

After the show on Friday, we trekked to St. Paul for our first cast party. The party was fun. There is a difference between "going out after the show" and a "cast party" and this was actually the first "cast party" I'd been to since my theater days 13 years ago...and in those days I was single and prone to getting very drunk...so this was a little different. In the course of this show, I have found, to my great annoyance, that I am grossly desperate for approval and validation, and while I love the party atmosphere, within that atmosphere, I tend to want to find a person or a couple of people with whom to hold court. I find it unbearable to just be a silent, observant outer edge of a large group. In a one-on-one conversation, there is opportunity to listen and be listened to, and to feel real and significant.

My cast mate and I left the party around 1, and when I dropped her off at home, I was still trying to decide whether to go to bed or just push through. I needed to be up at 3 in order to get ready for the film shoot at 4. Everyone I talked to said that even 45 minutes of sleep would help keep me from crashing. So I got to bed at about 2 with an alarm set to go off in an hour. I got into the shower at 3 and when I got out, my husband said, "Your phone was ringing, and I think you have a message." Sure enough, there was a message from the film director saying he was sorry for the last minute notice, but the shoot for the day was cancelled and the project was going to have to be postponed because he needed recast. Apparently one of the actors had jumped ship on the project around 3 AM on the morning of the first shoot. I wasn't entirely disappointed about being able to crawl back into bed.

The Read Through

2009-03-12T16:52:00.001-07:00

I think I have officially entered the Twilight Zone. Last night we had the first (almost) complete cast reading of the short film script. I have yet to meet the actress who is playing my younger sister...though we are facebook friends due to my prolific cyber stalking tendencies. Hopefully, I will get to meet her next Wednesday.

We were to meet at 7 at a location I had suggested due to my memory of it's having a nice enclosed conference room. My memory was faulty on the "enclosed" point. I got there early and wandered up to the "conference room" which was packed with people I didn't recognize. It was possible that some of them were involved with the film somehow, as I had only met two of the people involved at this point, but as I didn't see a familiar face, I took a seat elsewhere and waited to recognize someone. At 7, the director appeared as well as the other person I know (who I will have to name something other than "bad cop" going forward...but I haven't decided what yet). There was also a girl who introduced herself to the director - and then to me - she was there to read for a part that needed to be recast due to the original actress dropping out of the project. She was a remarkably confident personality...and everything about her screamed ACTRESS.

Once the room was emptied of all the not-us people, we chatted as we waited for the last of the cast to arrive. I mentioned to the girl that this was my first film experience. She said that she hadn't done much film work, but that she needed to get a "reel" put together. I said that I had no idea what that meant, and she happily obliged me. It is a compilation of various bits of film work one has done that can be sent out as or with a resume...or something. I asked who she would submit it to, and she said that she had a couple of agents who would submit it for her. Oy. Yes, I was feeling a bit out of my league. The last guy of the cast arrived and we introduced ourselves...and he chatted with the director some. This actor had not yet read the script...and yet was cast in the film...which was interesting. We talked about the filming schedule and potential conflicts and all that, and the director mentioned that we were working with pretty much all professional actors. At which point, I chimed in, "Um...except for me." He laughed and said, "Except for Jessica." I just wanted it out on the table.

So we started reading...and I understood immediately why Mr. Actor was cast script unseen. He was fantastic...one might even say professional. Ms. Actress was also phenomenal. What struck me about both of them was that they had incredible voices...voices with character and strength and life. I was pretty much in awe of them. And I felt pretty much like a hack. The first time we read it, the director was reading the lines of our one absent cast member...which was a bit awkward, because he was not particularly convincing as a younger sister or female love interest. I suppose he had other things on his mind...like directing a film. The second time we read it, Ms. Actress read the sister's lines as well as her characters lines, and that helped enormously.

I came home last night and told Dan (my hubby) all about it. I said that it is good that my character is a very successful, type A, top of the corporate ladder sort, because it forced me to pretend to be those things. Still, I felt that it was only a matter of time before I would get an email or a phone call relaying sincere regrets about there having been a terrible mistake, and they were going to have to recast my role. But, here it is, 24 hours later, and no such call has come. In fact, some emails were exchanged today that have left me pretty certain that I am actually wanted, for whatever bizarre reason, for this project. I still have tremendous anxiety...I have absolutely no clue what will happen when the camera starts rolling...I have fear that my face will betray me and refuse to cooperate. There is a shot near the end that is of my face as my character thinks about what has transpired. That completely freaks me out.

Still, I am determined to roll with it. To be unaffected, to be sincere, to be Godly, to be faithful, to be teachable, and to have fun.

Does This Make Me Legit?

2009-03-09T17:23:00.000-07:00

Last week, after perceived ages of silence, I got an email from the director of the short film I auditioned for. He was wondering if I would be available for a callback the following night. To my chagrin, no I was not. I hate having to say no in these fragile early phases...because of the chance that the one time I have to say "no" is the one time they need me to say "yes". But it was tech week for the play I am in right now, and so I was immovably committed elsewhere. Of course, there is the possibility that being busy with another artsy fartsy endeavour makes one appear as quite a hot commodity. At any rate, I said I wasn't available and gave some alternative times that I would be. The next day, I got an email asking if I would be available that Saturday morning. I was.

I woke up with AMPLE time to get properly dolled. I decided to wear the same thing I had worn to the first audition, and I intended to wear my hair the same way as well. However, my hair had other ideas. I found myself neurotically thinking, What if it was my hair that made an impression the first time around? But alas, my hair wasn't having it, so I moved on to plan B.

Of course, the callback was being held in a destination entirely foreign to me. I might as well have been navigating the back roads of Paris (does Paris have back roads?). Eventually, I pulled over and called the coffee shop where I was supposed to be in 10 minutes. A nice young man guided me in using his glorious iPhone. When I got there (with minutes to spare), I thanked him profusely and affirmed that his iPhone had been a worthy investment.

While I was digging out dollars for coffee, the director of the film came up and gave me some money. Yes, I am still naive and foolish enough to have found that to be utterly fantastic. Oooohhh...free coffee!! Be still my heart, I feel like a movie star. We sat down and waited for one other to arrive; there were supposed to be three of use, but one had to cancel. Apparently I was the only one of the three who was there for a "callback"...the others had already been cast. So we chatted a bit. I noted that there was no camera present...nice, but I really felt (still feel) that the director might want to take a second look before making any rash decisions. I asked the him what he was making the film for. He mentioned that he has always wanted to go to Sundance...and that this was his chance. Yes folks, you heard it here. My imagination has taken me to Sundance and to the late night talk show circuit in one fell swoop. I have also found myself a bit distressed by his "this is my chance" comment...he's not old...he has a whole life ahead of him...so...is there something tragic lurking in the shadows? I hope that line of thought, too, can be credited to an overactive imagination.

The other person arrived, and we read a few scenes together. It was very mellow. After the 3rd or 4th little scene, the director said, "I think you're in for Kristin." To which I said, "Really?" To which he said, "Yeah." To which I said, "Can I take that to the bank?" To which he said, "Yes, you can take that to the bank." Hurrah!

The (film) Audition

2009-02-28T09:12:00.000-08:00

I always think that 45 minutes is enough time to get ready in the morning. And I am always late. I wonder if there is a correlation. At any rate, my intention this morning was to get ready with enough time to arrive at the audition 15 minutes early, but instead left my house about 15 minutes before I was scheduled to audition. Brilliant. Thankfully, there was no traffic, weather, or road construction to deal with, so I made it in time.

The audition was held at one of my favorite places in Minneapolis. It is a place I don't get to nearly often enough and it is a silly place that closes at 8 pm during the week, at 5 on Saturdays and doesn't even open on Sundays, so it's pretty much inaccessible to the average working suburbanite. I was happy to have an excuse to go there. There are 3 floors of various classrooms, and all I knew was that the audition was being held in "one of the reading rooms upstairs." Eventually, I found a little room with snacks scattered across a table and upon further inspection, I saw people and a camera and guessed that this was probably the right place. I asked if it was the right place...but didn't really get a definitive answer...I stood there kind of stupidly wondering if I was being told that it was the right place, or that it wasn't the right place. It was eventually determined that it was the right place.

There were 3 people in the room when I arrived - the director, a guy (Helper Monkey), and a girl who I think is actually part of the cast already. Shortly after, a fourth person arrived, who was like me, a little late and a little stressed and there to audition. She was very professional; she walked in, asked if this was the audition, apologized for being a little late, and said, "I'm (her name here)." What I noticed about the other two girls there was that they have faces that I imagine look fabulous on film - really big eyes and full lips and defined cheeks bones and eyebrows. I immediately felt like a hobbit (not a desired effect).

This was my first moment ever attempting anything resembling acting in front of a camera...so any lingo or assumptions were completely lost on me. The director told us where we would be starting and which character to read and then Helper Monkey said, "Do you want to do names?" What the..?? Apparently that means saying your name (real name) and the name of the character you are reading for. So, I learned a new phrase...however, what I did not learn is where to address this little moment. Was I supposed to look into the camera? Was I supposed to say "my name is..." before saying my name? No idea...so I just looked off embarrassedly somewhere and said something stupid and we proceeded.

We read a scene while sitting, then read it again standing, then switched roles and read it again. After the last read, the director asked if there was anything we wanted to do with it. I said, "I have no idea how to answer that question." Driving home afterwards of course, I came up with all kinds of answers. The hardest part of the process was wrapping my brain around the fact that two of the people reading were not there to audition, so they were just feeding us lines - it was hard to get into a character when not everyone reading was in character. That is my biggest regret...I'm still processing it, and I think that it is probably the most valuable thing I learned - that it's important to ACT at an audition no matter what anyone else is doing or how they are doing it. I really wish I would have played bigger and more expressive. My other regret is that the two of us auditioning were supposed to be sisters, but I didn't act very sister-ish with her. I also wish I would have stood up straighter, pushed my hair away from my face, used my eyebrows more...ummm...so many things.

Even with all the awkwardness, it was really fun. It didn't suck. It didn't hurt. It felt safe and unpretentious which is always good. I honestly don't expect anything to come of it - there were at least 4 other girls (or, dare I say, women) who auditioned as well - still it would be really great to be part of. We shall see.

Foray Into Film??

2009-02-26T16:04:00.000-08:00

So, a couple of weeks ago, I got an email from an acquaintance (those of you who have followed this blog since it's inception will know this acquaintance as "bad cop"). The email was sent to me as well as about 8 or so others regarding a short film project that was looking to cast 2 females, one in her late 20's and one in her mid 30's. I am all of those things. I read the email with interest and didn't do anything with it because I am:

Not Photogenic
Terrified of Cameras
Unable to Make My Face do what I Want it to Do

However, upon further thought, I decided to reply with interest. People find it odd that I loathe public speaking but love performing on stage. I try to explain that there is a world of difference between being "yourself" in front of an audience and being "someone else." I thought that perhaps it's possible that acting in front of a camera is that same world apart from having a picture taken or giving an impromptu performance on film at a wedding reception. A few days later, I heard from the person who is directing the film and read through the script and decided that it wouldn't hurt to ride the wave as far as it would take me - I replied that I would love to be considered for either female. I thought better of making the presumptuous observation that I am on the old side of ideal for the younger character, and the young side of ideal for the older...but I will make that presumptuous observation here, in private, on the World Wide Web.

Today, I got an email from him letting me know that I'm scheduled to read for it at 10 AM on Saturday. So, that's exciting. I really don't expect anything to come of it (see bullets above), but man, what a great opportunity. If any of my readers are the praying sort, if you could pray that my body and my brain would cooperate with each other at the audition, I would be much obliged.

In old theater news, the connections are starting to happen and I am so grateful. I had a moment yesterday driving home where I prematurely mourned the end of the run...and that's a good thing. I think about the rest of the cast a lot (too much, I suppose) and really look forward to seeing them next...which makes it crummy that our rehearsal for tonight was cancelled (stupid snow) and we don't have a rehearsal again until Sunday. My hubby, however, is happy to have me at home for once...and I can't say I blame him. I'm nice to be around. Did I say that out loud? He's nice to be around too...the best really.

I am starting to wonder if theater for me has less to do with acting and performing, that with making new friends, or, failing that, meeting new people. I Googled "can an introvert become an extrovert" and learned that no, it isn't possible. But if it weren't for the Internet, I would swear that's what is happening to me. Every time a rehearsal ends and people grab their coats and run for the doors, I think, "Come on guys, let's hang out some more." All of our rehearsals so far have been Sundays through Thursdays...school/work nights for the educated and employed; maybe we will hang out some more once we are together on a Friday or a Saturday night. Or maybe I'm weird.

On Muses and Whatnot

2009-02-22T14:20:00.000-08:00

I took a class about a year ago at the Loft in Minneapolis. It was a four week class called The Adventurous Storyteller and out of it came the seeds for a potential novel (optimistically) or at least a short story. There were scenes created that I fell in love with and have carried with me ever since, hoping to find an actual plot in which to weave them together into something profound and wonderful. I think it may have happened. The show that I am currently involved in has done, and continues to do, a bit of a number on my emotions. As exhausting as it is, in the course of the ride, I think I may have finally picked up my Muse and found the direction in which to travel.

The play deals with various people in various stages of life. My character is minor, and in neither her youth, nor her golden years, and is frankly a little dumb and probably doesn't think much about what season of life she is in. I, however, as in ME, Jessica, do think about my current season of life...and I don't particularly know what to make of it. I am no longer especially young and ideological, nor am I old and resigned to my fate such as it is. Some would say, I suppose, that I am in the prime of my life, but I feel so uncertain about what that means. I remember being struck at 19 by the line in The Glass Menagerie, where Tom says, "I am tired of the movies and am about to move." It struck me then as profound, and today it strikes me as utterly crucial. As though there isn't any more time to think about moving - there is only time to move or to not move. I have been not moving for entirely long enough.

A pastor who I enjoy listening to once talked about how people often sit around waiting for God to change them, or to change their lives and their circumstances. They just wait and wait, doing nothing, not recognizing how improbable it is that God is actually going to saunter into their living rooms, turn off the TV for them and tell them to get off their butts and do something. We get to make choices, we don't have to wait to be shoved before we move. We also might have to work a little bit.

I was talking last week with a castmate about the beauty of the immediacy of theater. I love knowing that once you're in, you're in. When I am part of a show, no matter how small a part, I feel alive...I feel like life is happening and it's happening now. It isn't waiting for me to show up or to get my crap together...it is living and breathing with or without me and I love when I get to be a part of it's breath. But I do so want to learn how to live in real life too...how to take that immediacy - that urgency - and turn it into something that is about more than just me.

This has been a rather random rambling...nowhere near as cohesive as I'd hoped it would be...but I'm just going to publish it anyway. Thanks for reading.

I'm Me

2009-02-16T20:30:00.000-08:00

First of all, in Perfect Friend news, she has been cast as Thelma in The Trip to Bountiful at Lyric Arts! Hurray for Perfect Friend. Now, if you are dying to know who she "really" is, you can go see her perfect performance in this glorious show!

I wish I had written last night as I intended to, because every rehearsal leaves me with an entirely different emotional experience to wrestle through. I've said that this one is tricky. It is tricky because there are things I want to process and write about and share that quite simply, I can't - at least not yet, and certainly not here. These are things that I have to tuck away and hope to have an outlet for in some other capacity.

Sunday night was very fun. One of our castmates has been (and is still) involved in another show and so had sadly missed the first couple weeks of rehearsal. On Sunday, he was able to join us at last and I really enjoyed talking with him backstage...which is where I spend the bulk of my evenings these days. But I love it. It really is a benefit of having a "smaller" part...the potential to bond with the rest of the cast on a level that has nothing to do with the characters we are playing on stage.

There is also a certain level of awkwardness to backstage bonding. For example, at one time, there were three of us backstage, and I was telling an enthralling story. During the course of my tale, one of the other two had to leave to go on stage to say some lines or something. And so I had a brief moment of terror, wondering if the remaining person would have any interest hearing the rest of my story...and he did...much to my relief. At another point, again while there were three of us present, someone else was telling an (though slightly less, I'm sure) enthralling story. Again, during the course of the story, the other person present had to go act or some such nonsense. I was struck this time with a different, and worse, sort of terror. Would the person continue their story, even with me being the only available audience? Yes, they would...much to my relief.

Tonight, however, a less desirable scenario occurred. I was telling a (presumably not enthralling) story, and during the process, the eyes of my audience of three wandered away into a different conversation happening across the room. My dear 15 year old friend said, "Jessica, I'M listening to your story." And I happily finished it for her. Ugh. Sometimes it's hard to be human...and I hate being neurotic and insecure.

Tonight was also...shall we say...interesting...because some of the back stage conversation took an absurdly surreal turn. Things were said that I can't write about, because this is a PG (or PG-13 at it's worst) rated blog. Oddly, I find those turns somehow comforting. I absolutely love it when people put their cards out and let themselves be known...I love it when people don't pretend to be something or someone other than what they really are. It sounds contradictory, I suppose, what with theater being a catalyst for hiding behind characters and masks. But I think that has always been what I've found so exhilarating about theater; that although, naturally, there are phonies and frauds, there is also incredible sincerity. People get to just be. I wonder if it's got something to do with the transient nature of a show...people have the opportunity to come together as strangers and in the course of the experience, they can remain strangers, or they can let out all their crap and see what happens. It's safe, because it's temporary...and then when it's over...it's over. Or it goes on. Whatever.

Striving After the Wind

2009-02-08T19:06:00.000-08:00

Perfect Friend reminded me that I've been neglecting my blog. It's true. My intention has been to chronicle each "experience" as it happens rather than giving 20/20 hindsight an opportunity to sensor. But this one is a tricky one.

We had our first read through last Monday. Traffic was kind to me and I arrived about 20 minutes early which allowed me to pick any chair my heart desired from which to await the arrival of the rest of the cast. Two of them, I knew from the previous show I was in, but the rest were mysteries, and as they arrived I tried to assign them to their character. There was the respectable beau that any mother would want her daughter to marry and the kindly older neighbor with a giant heart of gold. There was the newspaper boy and the well intentioned mother desparately concerned with the proper care and keeping of her daughters. Then there was the beautiful girl who was required to actually be beautiful, and the passion ingniting drifter whose prerequisite was that he look good without a shirt. Ahem.

When the woman who was cast in the role I wanted walked in, I knew immediately which character she was playing. And I say that without bitterness. And I say THAT without any of my usual charming sarcastic wit. When I announced on Facebook that I was "Christine", my sister-in-law asked if it was the part I wanted, I said that no, it wasn't the part that I wanted, but it was definitely a part that I want. Anytime I audition for something there is a wanted part...and to get cast in that role is the dream. To be cast at all is the goal. At least at this point in the game...to be cast at all is my goal.

We read through the play, and I had goosebumps the whole time. This show has been gorgeously cast and it is going to be amazing. During the long and frequent stretches where I had no lines, I just looked and listened in awe of the talent around that table. And I wondered at how it was very probable that by the end of March, that room of strangers would be a room of friends making all the usual promises and plans to stay in touch for life or longer.

Since the read through, I have had two rehearsals. And I have to say that I am so thankful for my dear 15 year old friend who is playing the "smart" sister - as opposed to the "pretty" sister. If she weren't there, I think at this stage, I would be having tremendous anxiety about whether I will be able to bond with the rest of the cast. This is always the way it goes, and I know that. At some point, something will click and we will all operate as a beautiful cohesive unit, but this show feels very different than the last couple of shows I have done...and I can't put my finger on why. Or maybe I can...but I won't write about it today.

Something very sad happened to someone in the cast this weekend. I wanted to have magic words to say that would make it all better and take away their suffering. Those kinds of words don't usually come from human lips, but I am hoping and praying that those words do come.

It got me thinking about the time in my life so long ago, when I believed with all my heart that the best hope anyone had for happiness and success was to be beautiful. Physically beautiful. And that if a person were beautiful, at least they could count on that to carry them through. I have since been made aware of the folly of that belief; however, it would appear that in this world, the beautiful people to seem to have an easier time of it. When I think back on all the effort I put into pursuing that elusive beauty, all I can see is desparation and emptiness and brokeness. There was a gorgeously decorated and well maintained castle wall that withstood attack after attack while the land within the wall was sadly neglected. In time, the wall could not stave off the enemy. When the wall was brought crumbling down, the battle worth fighting began because the heart of what lay within was exposed. Would I give up and die, or rise up and fight - ugly and beaten and vulnerable? I think I'm still fighting; every day I am fighting. But that tragically neglected interior kingdom is being rebuilt and refined into something that I hope is more beautiful than the well preserved wall could ever be.

Fickle is as Fickle Does

2009-01-23T19:36:00.000-08:00

Today I had to go to the bank. We got a lovely message from Wells Fargo yesterday advising us that our checking account was overdrawn. And no, it wasn't a bank error. We were overdrawn due to a misjudgment on my part regarding when a payment was due. I was able to get one part of the problem corrected with one department over the phone, and they advised me to go to a branch office to get the other part of the problem resolved. On my lunch break, I spent 45 minutes driving around Eden Prairie looking for an alleged branch office on Prairie Center Drive. Then I thought, screw it, and pulled into a Jimmy John's parking lot to try to resolve it on the phone. To no avail. So after work, I tried again with the branch office, this time setting out with an actual known address in hand. I haven't been in an actual bank in years for anything other than turning coins into paper and let me tell you that going to a bank on a Friday night at the end of the work day is quite an event! It's amazing how many people would rather stand in line for a half an hour than spend 30 seconds at an ATM.

I arrived at the bank at about 4:30. A pleasant young man was directing the throngs of paycheck cashers and depositers to the appropriate lines and then he lead me back to his desk where we could "discuss my accounts." He was able to take care of about half my problem (really, more than he was obligated to), and then we sat and chatted until they locked the doors at 6. It was surreal. I was introduced to a stuffed iguana named CeeCee and a box elder bug named Alex. I was asked if I had any advice for his friend who is trying to win back a girl he's been lax with for the last 7 years. We talked about mortgages and investing and dreams and feeling chained to a chair in a cubicle like a prisoner. As they were locking up, he walked me to the door and said something to the effect of, "Well, you've turned an otherwise unbearable situation into a very pleasant one." Then he shook my hand and we parted ways. And for the record, in the course of conversation, it came up that he's not so much into girls, if you know what I mean, so no, he wasn't hitting on me. It was the most wonderful bank experience I have ever had.

In the midst of it all, while the banker was on the phone trying to help me with my problem, my cell phone rang. Normally, I do not answer my phone while sitting at the desk of someone who has the power to waive my 9 overdraft fees. But hey, he was on the phone, too! So I answered. And, oh happy day, it was the director of the play I auditioned for offering me a role as a friend of the character I had been longing to be cast as. "I'd be thrilled!" I said. I had spent the last 72 hours stewing in self-pity, telling myself all the true things I know about auditioning and not getting parts, trying to reconcile emotion with reality. As my favorite bible teacher/pastor guy of all time is fond of saying: "What you know trumps what you feel." Still, it's so hard getting those feelings to catch on. So after wailing all over facebook and being consoled by all my dear friends, I now have to recant my woes and say, "Hurray! I got a part after all." Thank you all my friends for being able to tolerate my absurd and irrational mood swings.

My Friends Blogs Sure Come In Handy

2009-01-21T15:37:00.000-08:00

One of my dear cast mates from The Hanging of the Greens just blogged (http://katesandvik.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-adventure.html) that she has been cast in the play I auditioned for last night. I am thrilled beyond words for her! She is a young lady of depth far beyond her 15 years and will be absolutely phenomenal in the role. Of course, the fact that she has been notified implies that the play has been cast...and the fact that I haven't gotten that magical phone call implies that I am not among the chosen few. Oh well...I gave it the old college try. It helps to remember something I read about auditioning once...that there are often scads of people auditioning for the same one or two roles, and only one or two of those scads can get the part. Not being cast doesn't mean I suck (although that is always a possibility). It just means that I wasn't what the director was looking for. Of course, it's always nice to get the part.

The Audition - January 20

2009-01-20T19:36:00.000-08:00

This audition had the most people by far of any audition I have been to and I found that to be oddly comforting. Somehow it is easier to have realistic expectations when I see with my own eyes just how many people are vying for the few available roles.

The evening's adventure began at 4 when I got off work. Auditions were held between 6 and 10 so I was going to pick Perfect Friend up at about 7. Well, I was actually going to get to her house at 6 so we could have ample time to critique our outfits and gush over each others hair and whatnot. I was certain that nothing in my closet was quite appropriate and so thought it of the utmost importance to stop off at Target on my way home from work in hopes of scoring a miraculous role winning sweater or something. I left Target with sushi and coffee. Actually, I left Target with an empty sushi tray and a half empty cup of coffee. When I got home, I found that I actually did have some suitable somethings to wear and so I put a few of them on and threw some others in a bag to take with to PF's house. Then I spent an exasperating half hour trying to update my resume and print a picture of my glorious head. Then, properly primped, I left for PF's a fashionable half hour late.

We oohed and aahed and all the appropriate things, and left for the audition. On the drive, to help distract us from the nervous nonsense going on in our digestive tracts, we listened to Voice Lessons to Go on the iPod and tried to sing scales of Ma Meh Mi Mo Moo...but found that we were too nervous to be effectively distracted. So we practiced "bawdy laughter" which gave way to real laughter...the real kind is much more fun.

When we got to the theater, I think we were both overwhelmed at how many people were there. I also think we both felt the same sort of relief...it seemed very possible that we could just have a good time auditioning and be very okay with not being cast. There were just so many people, that though we could certainly hope, we had no business being overly confident. To my great delight, a couple of people from a play I was in previously were there to audition as well, and it was fun to see them and introduce them to Perfect Friend (though, I did not introduce her as such!). We were given some scenes to work on...and were inevitable split up.

There were three of us who were brought to the stage to read together...it was a two person scene - one man and one woman, so the ladies took turns with the man. I was asked to read first. It felt good...I LOVE the part. The director stopped us once and gave a few notes and then had us start again. I think I followed the directions well...though of course it could have been better. Then we were stopped and the other woman came up to read while I watched. She was very good, too. I love getting to see how other actors choose to play a scene or a character. When we were all done reading the scene, the director told us that she hardly ever holds callbacks, but that they would be on Thursday if needed. If we don't hear from her by Monday, we know that we have not been cast. Then we were dismissed.

I mentioned to the director that I also was hoping to read for another part. She said, "I would only want to see you read for (this role). You're too young (for the other role). And you're too pretty." Rats.

The Continuing Adventures of PF and Me

2009-01-12T17:49:00.000-08:00

And so there is another audition on the horizon. Next week in fact. I think I will opt to not mention the name of the show on the off chance that a potential director could stumble upon this blog and somehow be predisposed to not like me. Is that superstitious?

I wasn't sure about this audition as I was not at all familiar with the show. I had heard it was a bit "racy" and assumed that would mean kissing...and well...kissing fellows than my husband is a bridge I'm not too keen to cross. So when the audition notice was posted, I carefully reviewed the list of characters. There are several roles for women...most of them ideally a little older than I am, but only one that is definitely an "older" woman...so I figured there's a chance. Then I got my grubby little hands on a copy of the script so that I could review it and see what non-kissing options there might be. Then I debated about whether to let PF in on my plan. And I know I made the right choice.

On Saturday, PF and I cuddled up on her couch and read through my copy of the script, alternating every line. It's fun to read a script that way, because by the time we get through it, we both get to read as every character. For some reason we had a really hard time keeping Kansas (I'll throw in hints) in the Midwest as opposed to the mighty South. Southern is just so FUN. To our delight, we found that there is only one character doing any kissing and she is a whippersnapper, so there is absolutely no risk of my being offered that part. PF of course, could pass for the 18ish character (although she is mid-20s), but not me...thankfully?? She was on the fence about whether or not she wanted to audition, but there are a few "minor" female characters who are at times silly and giggly spinsterish friends and the possibility of the two of us maybe getting to play them was highly appealing. So we are both going to audition. Together.

I really want one of the parts. It is a fantastic role that involves a bit of latent insanity which I adore. There is also another Mother role...which I found to be startling similar to the last Mother role I played. If it means I get to perform, I'm all for typecasting...but man, the other role would sure be great.

I told a coworker today about how PF and I are going to this audition together. She asked, "Isn't that hard?" Meaning, competing with a dear friend for the same parts. My response was that, yes, it is hard, but it's so good for us. It helps us learn how to rejoice in each others successes and how to accept defeat gracefully. I had considered keeping this audition a secret from her, but I don't want to be that person...the person who hinders the realization of a friend's dream. Keeping an audition a secret will not make me any better an actress. And having worthy (and friendly) competition pushes us both to excel. It also keeps our vanity in check...or in the event that neither (or both) us us are cast...our vanity could skyrocket beyond control.

Take Another Little Piece of My Heart

2008-12-16T20:50:00.000-08:00

And so it is over. And I miss my surrogate family something terrible.

I do so want to write something tremendous...something that will do justice to the joy I have known these past brief weeks...and to the turmoil I feel now. But I fear the right words will not come. There were tears on my pillow last night as the faces of the children passed through my thoughts...the eyes and the smiles and the pouts and the braids and the hugs. Ah the hugs. The hugs will be most sorely missed. I dreamed of my favorite children last night. I've told each of them that they are my favorite...so that is all that need be said about the dream.

Perhaps a highlighting of some favorite moments will suffice:

On opening night, we had a party afterwards that all in attendance were invited to attend. While chatting with Jim and his lovely wife Kelly, our youngest cast member was passing by. I patted him on the head and asked if he had had fun on this, his first opening night. He looked up at me with his giant bespectacled eyes and said, "I must be very popular because this is the seventh person to hold an interview with me tonight." He's eight.

During a final dress rehearsal, Justin, our resident 10 year old attention monger, glanced at me while patting his checkered wool jacket. "Does this coat make me look fat?" He asked. This led to me periodically referring to his (non-existent) obesity...which he took in stride. On the last day of the show, I made a final remark about his mighty fatness to which he replied in feigned outrage: "Don't even go there with me! I lost 5 pounds for you!"

After the final curtain, when tears and hugs and final photo ops were rampant. My eldest daughter, Ali, hugged me tightly and said, "You're the only old person I know who's cool."

I love doing exaggerating my already prolific dorky tendencies with kids. Somehow being ultra nerdy seems to endear me to them. When signing in before a show, I wrote, "Check it, yo," in the space by my name. Later, when Brianna (15) was signing in, Alycia (17) was standing behind her and read, "Check it, yo," out loud. Brianna looked at her strangely and shrugged and then checked Alycia in. As if Alycia would ever talk so ghetto. Alycia laughed about that for a long time.

As inevitable back stage romances started to bloom, theories abounded regarding some potential plot twists. On the last day, Ali showed up with a nine page sequel she had written the night before. Between the shows that day, we were all given a copy and trooped up to the stage to perform it. No one had read it in advance, so the plot twists were made known to all the moment they escaped our lips. It was glorious. I am still in utter awe of what she was able to come up with in one night.

There are so many more moments...many more poignant...many more subtle...but all so precious and not to be forgotten.

Snow Makes For Bad Traffic

2008-12-06T08:31:00.000-08:00

Call is at 6:00 PM. The show starts at 7:00 PM. At 6:30 PM I was just merging onto 694 from 100 (as .5 mph), a good 20 minutes from the Theater...when there is NO traffic. I was screaming a lot, and weeping a little, and then praying a lot...begging the Lord who is sovereign over all - including traffic and weather - to PLEASE get me to the theater before 7. He did get me there before 7...about a minute before 7, but before 7 nonetheless. And I ran the block to the theater from where I was parked, in the snow (beautiful snow under other circumstances, but dirty, rotten, stinking, vile snow at the time), slid in the door, and promptly fell down the stairs. But I arose gloriously unscathed and, at a more gingerly pace, maneuvered my way to the dressing room where my darling family greeted me with hugs and smiles and cheers and love.

Most of the girls left the dressing room to give me space to get ready, but I asked a couple of them to stay and have a conversation in the corner to distract me from my shaking hands...and they did and I loved them for it. I managed to get my costume on and make-up and hair done in a miraculous 15 minutes, and so the curtain went up at 7:15 PM.

This was all last night (Friday night). Opening night was on Thursday, thankfully, and was absolutely spectacular. In my humble opinion. We were energized and excited and the show went really, really well. Friday night's show lacked some of that opening night magic. We missed a few lines, but covered them really well. I think the "off" bits were definitely noticed more by the cast than by the audience...at least, that is my hope. Afterwards, a couple of the girls were saying that typically, the second night of a run is the worst. So we delighted in the fact that we now have nowhere to go but up. I think it's probably good to have a little bit of an awkward performance (though not ideal by any means), to remind us that we can't stop trying and focusing and working...that the show wont perform itself...we have to invest ourselves fully in every performance. The actors carry the show...the show cannot carry the actors.

Preview Night

2008-12-03T19:49:00.000-08:00

We had our first "audience" tonight. It consisted of about 16 people. They were pretty mellow. Still, I'm really glad we had those 16 devoted friends and family there to test our masterpiece on. If the other guests are anything like my beloved guest was, then many of us have been duly showered with praise and will go out on opening night ready to take on the world.

By Sunday night, I will have spent every evening of an entire week with my imaginary family in our imaginary world...and in the real world which (sometimes unfortunately) exists parallel to it. It's sort-of like living in my favorite kind of book - the kind where a separate and unfamiliar reality coexists right next door to the mundane. And I suppose, like all good stories, it is inevitable that this one will have to have an ending. At least, the imaginary part - the part that occurs on stage - will have to come to an end. But the reality of all the lives that have been mashed together will continue...and some of our lives will very possibly never be mashed together again. It's the one part of the theater that stinks.

I'm trying to wrap my brain around what life will look like when this is over. Even now, after weeks of rehearsing together, we grow closer and more familiar each time we are together. Claudia, our director, mentioned tonight how this group of kids is really phenomenal ... that there isn't the backstage drama that can so often accompany a cast of many children. I feel like we all just really like each other. When there are 12 women and girls all crammed into a tiny dressing room, there could be complete madness, but there isn't. Everyone is sharing tips on applying eyeliner and blush properly; everyone is zipping someone up, or braiding someones hair, or tying someones ribbons; there are inside jokes and encouragement and silliness and safety.

It's easy to forget that all these little girls and young women have lives outside our imaginary world that I know nothing about. I want to take care in every moment that I get with them to not waste foolish words or leave impressions of vanity and arrogance. I know from being 11 once, and then 13 and 15 and 17 that girls of any age really remember and carry through life some of the more cavalier words spoken by older women and I don't want to ever forget that. These are precious lives that mine is intermingled with for such a short time. It's a privilege not to be taken lightly.

Perfect Friend...Where is She Now?

2008-12-02T19:42:00.000-08:00

I recently got a sweet blog visit from an anonymous stranger who said that she enjoys reading about my and Perfect Friend's adventures. Other friends and readers have asked about PF, and so it is about time that I provide an update as to her whereabouts and whatabouts.

Our mission to become professional auditioners has apparently served us well. Unfortunately, our grand success has kept us apart for far too long. I don't think we've seen each other for more than a few minutes since she and her hubby picked Dan and me up from the airport back in the first week of November. It seems so long ago that we were reading playing acting games with a Catherine monologue from The Foreigner script in preparation for our first ever "together" audition. While neither of us were cast in The Foreigner (although PF did get a callback ...as some may recall), we both felt a smug sense of satisfaction when we discovered who was cast, and thought "What the....??" I think that is fairly crummy of us, but it did make us feel better.

While I was enduring the waiting to hear if I would be cast in The Hanging of the Greens, PF spontaneously and entirely by her lonesome went to audition for a Christmas musical revue at the Woodbury Community Theater. She was called (on the way home from the audition, of course) and offered a part in the production. Apparently Perfect Friend doesn't have to wait more than 10 minutes to "hear" after an audition. Ironically, and somewhat tragically, our two shows both open tonight. We have realized that neither of us will have a chance to see the other's show, because we will both be performing at the same times over the next two weeks! The thought of that makes me smile as I write. I can't wait until tonight when I will be on stage and imagining PF on stage at the same time singing her perfect little heart out.

Let's Get Physical

2008-11-20T20:26:00.000-08:00

So, tonight we had our first full on run-through sans scripts. It went amazingly well. From this point forward every rehearsal will be about polishing and perfecting. Although I have been missing my (real) husband in the evenings...a part of me is longing for Monday when I will be with my imaginary family again. I really miss them when we are apart...I know how temporary we are and I want to make the most of every second that we get to share.

When I first got rid of my script, I was made immediately aware of the fact that I have arms. And that they are inclined to hang uselessly at my sides or flail limply about if I try to force motion out of them. I remember Mrs. D in 5th grade telling us all about how awkward she felt as a teenager and how she was always confused as to what she should to with her arms. Yeah...I'm totally tracking with you, Mrs. D. Only I'm 32 and have had my arms for a good many years since being a teenager and to be honest, I haven't given them a whole lot of thought. But somehow on stage I find myself wishing that I were playing a character with two broken arms.

The physicality is starting to come. Part of it comes with the process of getting more comfortable with the rest of the cast. When a group of 22 strangers are brought together, there will naturally be a bit of reservation initially as it comes to touching each other. But as we all grow closer, that physical intimacy becomes more natural and we start behaving towards each other as a real family might. In fact, I can't think of a single one of my children who would shy away from a hug...they seem to love the affection...or maybe it's just me that loves their affection and I am grateful to them for hugging me back! However, there is another aspect of physicality that utterly eludes me and is my mission to conquer, or at least lay a strategy for, over this coming weekend. This is the physicality that involves my stupid arms when they aren't hugging a child. Argh. I just keep picturing myself holding my hands in front of me or gesturing lamely in some random direction. On stage, I know that gestures are supposed to be exaggerated...moving on stage is not the same as it is when sitting across from a friend at Starbucks.

There are people in our cast who are really remarkable when it comes to their physicality...I suppose a lot of it must come from years of experience on stage as well as just working on it between rehearsals; but even at the auditions, these people were physically so comfortable. There is a scene where Husband is telling his family a story that involves building a snow family and even at the first audition, he was brilliant at making the story so much more than just a spoken tale...he was able to make it an experience...which is what is needed for the stage. And Witchie, who I saw for the first time at the callback audition was instantly a PRESENCE. She was her character and she owned her space. This is just another glorious piece of the theater. There is so much I am (hopefully) able to learn from the other actors I get the honor of working with.

**as an absurd side note, i just ran spell check on this and for the first time in my life i spelled the word awkward right. i always think there is supposed to be a "c" in there. but i left it out this time. i made the right choice.

I Was an Eighth Grade Chorus Bunny

2008-11-18T17:52:00.000-08:00

There were about 10 of us who had a little song and dance number in The Velveteen Rabbit. We thought it was ridiculous that we should have to be at every rehearsal when we already knew our number and we were hardly on stage at all, so I volunteered to approach Mr. Marvey about us wee bunnies having Friday night's rehearsal off. He was not receptive to my suggestion. "Maybe the rest of them might be able to take the night off, but YOU have a long way to go before you are at their level." Yup. That's what he said to me. It may not be an exact quote, (and Mr. Marvey isn't his exact name) but that is the gist of it. And that is one of my great fears...that I have somehow convinced myself I am phenomenal at something when all the while the powers that be are convulsing internally at my inadequacy.

I have waited too long to write. There is so much to talk about.

The Adult Rehearsal:
We had a rehearsal last week where only three of the adults were called (and one child, but she disappeared suddenly...I'm not sure where she vanished to). We were to start really thinking about and discussing the relationships between us. And that scared me a little. As the director was talking, I found myself daydreaming about what I would blog that night when I got home. My tentative title for the post was "Acting is Hard." I was secretly hoping that she would just tell us what our relationships were...but she likes to let us think and create and develop on our own. It's like she gave us birth and is willing to let us grow up into whatever we will become. If we get out of control, I have no doubt she will reign us in, but I have to say it is pretty impressive that she is willing to give us such freedom with the characters she created. I also have to say that it is really an interesting experience to find oneself in a 17 year or so marriage to someone they have never known before. It's ACTING! But it's hard. And it's wonderful. The relationships are starting to develop and become more and more natural as we all spend time together and get more comfortable with each other.

The Stumble Through:
Last Thursday we had our first rehearsal since the Read Through where the entire cast was there. We were going to stumble through the entire play for the first time. When we were getting into our places on stage, my first day of school butterflies started misbehaving. I was very nervous and felt suddenly very unprepared. It didn't help when Husband walked on stage for his first line with NO SCRIPT. Neighbor and I made our incompetent selves feel better during the break by harassing Husband mercilessly for losing his script. He had it with him for the last scene. I think he was just trying to make us feel better. Why do we do that? Why do we try to make people feel guilty for being successful and responsible? It isn't very nice. I think seeing that Husband had already managed to memorize his part was actually incredibly motivating, because at the next rehearsal, Neighbor and I were both (pretty much) off our scripts, too.

A Pile of Family

2008-10-29T21:06:00.000-07:00

Tonight was my first actual "rehearsal" and it was absolutely wonderful. While getting into my car to drive home, I was overwhelmed by how much I love the theater. At one point during rehearsal, I found myself thinking "I don't want this night to end." I remember when I was a college student (for the three months that I went to college) and I had to write a paper for an English class...it was just after I had been in Auntie Mame...and I remember writing that I knew I wanted to act...that Acting alone would never make me happy, but without it, I would never be completely happy. Of course, at that time I didn't know Jesus...he was there of course, I just wasn't with him...and acting was the thing I latched onto as a piece of fulfillment. In the years between then and now I have come to a much greater understanding of "happiness" and yet, tonight I really remember the utter joy that I experience on stage.

The whole experience of playing a mother of seven is going to be amazing...I've said it before...but I love these kids...I just want to squeeze them all 'til they pop. It's fascinating to see how many of them appear to have been cast in roles that really fit their actual temperament. It is also bizarre being on stage with "my" seven children, and getting some glimpse of the challenges that an actual mother of many might face. It's really difficult to pay equal attention to all the children. I found myself wondering while driving home how easy it would be with so many siblings to feel like the odd one out, or like mom has a favorite, or how each child might come up with various tactics for earning attention and favor.

We have a fairly small space that makes up our stage "home" so we are very cozy. I was reminded of my aunt and uncle who have 5 kids and they all just love each other so much (though they might not always admit it). At Christmas, when there are well over 20 people crammed into my grandparents living room to open presents, their whole family can be found all piled up together between half of a couch and the floor underneath it. They aren't even aware that they do it...it's just so much more natural for them to be close than it is for them to seek to be apart. That is the kind of family I would like my imaginary family to be.

The Read Through

2008-10-27T19:48:00.000-07:00

Tonight the cast of Hanging of the Greens read through the script together for the first time. It is really a great story!

I left Eden Prairie for White Bear Lake at about 5:45. Half way there, as I was happily singing along, my i-pod stopped working. Then the radio stopped working. Then the ABS light came on. Then I noticed the clock was dim around the edges. Then I called Dan. Not that he could do anything over the phone, but ever since our conversion van broke down in the middle lane of 694 (at night, while I was driving it, alone), I have severe vehicular anxiety whenever things start and/or stop glowing in inappropriate ways. He assured me that it would be fine, so I drove all the way to the theater. When I got there, I turned off the car and then decided to see what would happen if I tried to turn it back on. It didn't turn back on...or start up...or whatever it is that cars do. So I called Dan. And he came out to WBL to make it work while I went inside to rehearsal. During a little break, I went outside to discover that the car had started right up for him, but he left me his car and drove the devil car home. It's not really a devil car...I love that car - it has heated seats - but I do not want to be in it if it stops working at a stop light or on the freeway.

Okay, so that was fun. I sat outside in the car waiting for someone else to show up so I could follow them in through the right door. When I got inside, there were two sweet "mature" women there - they were there to take measurements for costumes! How fun is that! I hope the silly excitement over such apparently routine theater thingys never goes away for me. So, the costume lady came at me with her tape measure and started rattling off my measurements (for all to hear) while the other lady wrote them down. As others arrived, they had measurements taken and we all settled in around a long, long table to read the script.

I have seven children of my own - which means 14 names to learn - and those are just my children. There are 22 in the cast; which means 44 names, well, 42 actually as I am fairly certain of my own names. Somehow, I find this more daunting than memorizing my lines. I hope to have them down by the time I go to my next rehearsal on Wednesday. I LOVE these children...they are amazing and friendly and happy and smiley and I think they will be almost as fun to hang out with as my nieces are. And that's a lot of fun.

I was also pleasantly surprised to learn that I have a fairly big part. Having now read the whole script, I am even more honored at the director's confidence in me to pull it off...I am so excited about this! There is a wonderfully dramatic scene where I am determined to make every mother in the audience weep. There is also a section of the story where the witch's forest spirit slaves are seducing the children out of their home and away from safety that gave me chills as we read it...it was creepy and wonderful...I can't wait to see what it looks like.

Mother of Seven

2008-10-24T21:40:00.000-07:00

At long last (long being just over 24 hours), the waiting is over. I am ecstatic and honored to have been cast as a pragmatic mother of seven. I am pausing right now in my writing to look up the word pragmatic.

pragmatic
adjective
1. concerned with practical matters; "a matter-of-fact (or pragmatic) approach to the problem"; "a matter-of-fact account of the trip" [syn: matter-of-fact]

Also:

2. Archaic
Active; busy.
Active in an officious or meddlesome way.
Dogmatic; dictatorial.

If allowed, I will go with definition 1 as I long for the children and the audience to ADORE me.

Yesterday, as previously mentioned , I tracked down the director's blog like some kind of insane stalker. She had noted that the casting was complete and added that she was heartbroken because "there was one talented young actress I tried to fit in and it just didn't work." I read that sentence and felt a sensation not unlike that of being punched in the gut, only it settled more in my teeth for some reason. Because my vanity demands that everything be somehow related to ME, I assumed that I was the "talented young actress" who would not be cast in the show. And as the minutes, and then hours, ticked on, I became increasingly certain of this fact. Of course, there was the word "young" that really should have silenced my screaming ego; that and the fact that in a play involving a cast of 16 or so children, it's possible that the children might actually be the ones referred to as young. But it was nice to console myself with the idea that if in fact those words had been written about me, I could rest easier knowing that the director found me both talented and young.

At about 9:30 that night, I looked at my cell phone. I hadn't heard it ring, though I had been checking it about every 5 minutes since leaving the callback the night before. It announced to me in glowing digital spledor that I had Voicemail. The message was that of the sweetest variety...a lovely woman spoke the glorious words: "....we'd like to offer you the part of Aleena..." I called back immediately to accept the role.

The Callback and the Waiting

2008-10-23T15:52:00.001-07:00

Ugh. The great news is that I got a callback for the play I auditioned for on Monday. The bad news is that now I'm waiting. I hate waiting...

I found the blog of the woman who is the playwright and director for the show...and it appears that casting is complete. However, I have not heard a word. From her blog, I linked to the blog of a guy who auditioned the same night as I did and was also at callbacks. As of about 4 hours ago, he is still waiting to hear as well...and I KNOW he will be cast, so there is still hope. Regardless of the outcome, I'm glad to have found their blogs due to my obsessive impatience. I learned that I really like the director, and hope to have other opportunities to audition for her in the future. She is quite a prolific playwright of children's theater and seems to genuinely love working with kids. I also learned that I like that guy too...he is also a rather prolific playwright and talked about Genesis and Adam and the significance of being named as it relates to discovering who your next character will be.

The callback was once again an entirely new experience. This time, we were all in the room together and got to watch each other do scenes. I really like that set up - I think it adds an element of friendly competition that can be incredibly motivating. There were only two people that I recognized from the first audition...one was one of the cute girls who had given me the thumbs-up. We smiled at each other and said, "Hi." We were all given scripts and a schedule of how the evening would unfold. I saw that I would be reading for two characters, the witch (which would be the most FUN of course) and the mother of 6 (which would be ALMOST as fun). The first scene the director had us read was one with just the children. And then I was up, reading as the witch twice with two different delicious little slave girls. I have this vision for the witch that is a combination of the White Witch of Narnia fame and Milificent of Disney's Sleeping Beauty. I though I did pretty well. HOWEVER, there was one other adult woman at the callback and she read the scene after I did. And she was fabulous! Really amazing...it was really humbling to watch her. She took a very different approach, but she was so natural and comfortable with her movements and her timing was phenomenal. It really was quite an education watching her; that's another reason why the all-in-one-room audition format is so great...it's an incredible opportunity to learn from other (real) actors. Honestly, watching her do the part made me feel fairly silly for thinking I could pull it off. Although, I do think I could pull it off...I just need to learn to be more physically comfortable on stage. Of course, that's where direction helps.

Then we read a scene with the Mother and the Father and the Neighbor. That scene was nice and went fairly well, but I felt like I really just "read" it as opposed to "acted." The guys who read the scene with me were amazingly talented and I felt like a bit of a hack...I was painfully aware of how my face was not interested in reacting the way I wanted it to. Somehow the nerves in my stomache were also telling the nerves in my face how to behave. In the words of Charlie Brown: "My body and my brain hate each other."

And so, I wait...nervously and impatiently...growing more doubtful with each passing moment. I mean, if I were "in" wouldn't someone have told me by now? There were supposed to be three adult women at the callback but only two of us were there. And as far as I can tell, there are only two roles for adult women. Which could be good, but that third really could be someone the director knows well and is wonderful and therefore is a shoo-in. I hate being analytical. It's exhausting.

The Audition - October 20th

2008-10-20T19:57:00.000-07:00

Tonight was an absolute blast. The first read through of the script is on Monday the 27th, so that means a minimal amount of waiting to hear whether I got a part.

I was scheduled to work tonight until 7, but the auditions started at 6:30, so I had plans to leave work around 6:45 and drive right to the audition (about 45 minutes from where I work) in order to be seen before they ended at 9. However, I did not plan well, and realized that I was wearing pants that required heels and that my heels were extraordinarily loud and obnoxious. A former director once gave the sage advise that noisy heels are incredibly distracting during an audition and so should not be worn. So I thought, okay, I will run to the mall on my lunch break and find a cheap pair of quiet shoes that are tall enough to keep my cuffs off the floor. After 1 1/2 hours and 5 stores, I was convinced that such a shoe does not exist. So I decided I would have to leave work earlier in order to go home first and change both my pants and shoes. This actually worked well as Perfect Friend and I would be able to drive together rather than meet there. On the way home, my car started freaking up as I accelerated to 60. I kept it under 60 and it seemed fine, but then I noticed the temperature gauge said, well, HOT. So I frantically called my husband who told me that I had to pull over and shut the car off or I would ruin the engine. Argh. I did not have time for such nonsense. But I did as I was told...and...long story short...the car made it home, I put on new pants and shoes, and PF and I headed out to our Audition.

This play is a children's play written by the director who was, naturally, holding the auditions. It runs about an hour and has a cast of many children, a few parents, and a fierce witch who has spirits for servants and children for slaves. What could be more fun? We filled out our applications and waited to be called in to read some scenes. We were called in with about 8 children between the ages of about 8 and 17. Sadly, the director noticed that PF had a conflict that fell on the same date as a performance, so she was told she wouldn't be able to be cast, but that she could stay and read for fun if she wanted. She opted to stay in the room to watch the auditions. It was sad really...but I think it must be a much better way to get a "no."

So I read for one of the Mother parts, and I read for the Witch...and man was it fun! I think I would LOVE acting with kids...they are amazing! It was so incredible how uninhibited they were, and how friendly. One of the scenes was just a bunch of siblings fighting and not doing what they were told and these kids were so great...they all behaved just like real siblings. I loved it. And the other scene involved the witch and 4 of the kids reading the parts of the spirits...that was fun because I got to yell at them and point my fingers in their faces and try to terrify them. So, first I was mommy dearest, and then I was vile villain...either part would make me glad.

The best part though, was at the end when we were getting ready to leave and the two youngest girls walked by and smiled at me and one gave me a thumbs up and said, "Good Job." And then the other smiled at me and said, "Good Job." I said, "Thanks! You too!" I hope I get to see those girls again.

The Audition - October 18th

2008-10-18T11:17:00.000-07:00

So, yesterday, I had my weekly Saturday morning coffee talk with my favorite Coffee Friend. I had to cut it short because I didn't wake up early enough to get all ready for the audition before I went to meet her. After coffee, I scooted home to finish primping. I had spent about 3 hours the night before searching through clearance racks at TJ Maxx, Kohl's, Old Navy and Target looking for the perfect audition dress and shoes. I found a dress and I found shoes, but when I got home to put them on on Saturday morning, I decided that a dress that I had in my closet would be an adequate choice. However, the $25 spent on the new dress was not wasted because it is adorable and I will wear it often. That's what I'm telling myself. The shoes were perfect and highly necessary...a sensible pair of black flats is never a wasted purchase. That is also what I'm telling myself. I dolled all up and then headed out to pick up Perfect Friend. When I got to her house we each squealed in delight at how stunning the other looked and how precious it was that we were both wearing black and white dresses. And then we headed north to the audition.

Neither of us had any idea what to expect; my previous experience auditioning at this theater involved reading a monologue from the script. When we got there, there were about 6 others seated in the hallway waiting for their turns and a few pockets of people strewn about reading bits of scenes together. We were each given an application which we filled out, all the while giggling nervously and commenting on how we couldn't write because our hands were shaking. And then we were called in...together. Only the director was in the room, and he said that he would have us both read for the same part. He gave us each a piece of the script and told us that he would send someone else out to read the other part and we should work on the scene for a while in the hallway and then we would be called back in to read it.

When we were called in, I went first. I thought I nailed that scene. It was so fun, and the director laughed at appropriate times and seemed genuinely pleased. Afterwards, he gave me another scene to work on and said he would send out some others to read the other parts. So I went into the hall to work on scene 2 while Perfect Friend took her turn with scene 1. Three of us were working on our scene together when Perfect Friend came out of her first pass. She also had a new scene in hand. Her scene was the Monologue. I think my gut could sense at that moment my impending failure. We other three were called in to read our scene and it went fairly well...I didn't feel as confident about it as the first one. Afterwards the Director said, "Thank you for your time. We are having call backs on Tuesday so this afternoon or tomorrow we will call you if we need to hear any more from you." Then Perfect Friend went in to read her Monologue and afterwards was told the same thing, and then we drove home.

I dropped her off at her house, and then went home. I changed my clothes, got ready to take my dog for a walk and then remembered to turn my phone back on. There was a voicemail. Keep in mind that Saturday's auditions were to run from 10 AM to 3 PM and the time was currently about 1:30. The voicemail was from Perfect Friend squealing with delight that she had just been called and invited to callbacks on Tuesday. The auditions weren't even over for the day, and she already got her callback. I received no such call.

There has been a battle raging between spirit and flesh for the last 24 hours that is utterly painful. Rationally and in my heart of hearts, I am completely and absolutely thrilled for Perfect Friend. Of course I am! But in my ego and my flesh I am sad and disappointed. It stands to reason, and I don't think there is anything wicked or selfish in feeling that way...I think it would be less human if I weren't battling these irritating emotions. It has been really helpful, mentally preparing for this sort of inevitability. I read somewhere that Jack Nicholson was rejected for something like 25 parts before he landed a role. So much depends on the vision that the director has for the character, and when many actors are vying for one part, they might all be talented actors, but ultimately only one can be cast. A rejection must not be interpreted as categorical failure. This is a hard truth for me to accept, but I know it is so! So many fabulous writers and actors and musicians encountered rejection after rejection after rejection, but they were so certain that the pursuit of their passion was not in vain that they refused to give up. And eventually, their perseverance was rewarded. Of course, there is the question of talent and the potential lack thereof...but I'm not quite ready to accept that as an option yet.

Perfect Friend and I are going to another audition tomorrow night (Monday). This one has a lot of roles and many of them are gender neutral...so that's a plus. If she gets another callback and I don't, I will try desperately to not be jealous. But I might want to pull her hair or something. I never said I was perfect.

A New Adventure

2008-10-09T18:03:00.000-07:00

Okay - it's time for the next installment. This entry will attempt to accomplish what I intended to do with this blog from it's inception - sharing with you, dear reader, the before, during and after of a multitude of theatrical experiences.

This entry stars me, of course, and my dear friend Perfect Friend. She doesn't know that that is her name...I hope she isn't too uncomfortable learning it via the interweb. This is what I call her when I'm talking about her with my co-worker...because it's pretty much true. Perfect Friend is beautiful and thin and smart and funny and kind and silly and talented. She sang at her own wedding and she loves spending time with her own family AND with her in-laws. Within 24 hours of joining facebook, she had about 300 friends. She is a genuinely happy person who is married to her genuinely happy male counterpart, and it is often a mystery why this genuinely happy person enjoys the friendship of the little black raincloud that is me...but she does. Because she is Perfect Friend. And I'm not complaining.

So, Perfect Friend has a dream of being an actress...particularly in a musical (or musicals) of some sort...which I think is a brilliant idea because she would be really fantastic. I also share this dream, although the musical piece of it for me will undoubtedly be limited to the occasional glorious chorus role. Together, we two are embarking on an audition frenzy. Well, we have two auditions planned for non-musicals this month and she will be auditioning for at least two musicals over the next few months (if I have to drive her to them myself).

Our first audition is really a no-chancer because it is a fairly popular play among play going sorts (though I had never heard of it, but then, I'm pretty much a poser), and there is only one female role for a female in her 20s-30s. It would be a pretty sweet role, but I imagine there will be a zillion (literally) 20-30 year olds vying for it, so we have agreed to look at this as a practice audition...although either of us would be ecstatic to be cast, and (almost) equally ecstatic if the other were cast, so it's really all for fun. That is what I keep telling myself...I think I'm almost convinced. I'm really trying to figure out how to look at the audition process as, if nothing else, and opportunity to perform as the star of the show to a private audience for all of 2 minutes.

We got together last weekend to read through the play in it's entirety. We just started reading the script and traded off with every line - truly, it was a theater nerd's delight. The play takes place in the south, but the first two characters are a couple of gents from jolly old England, so we spent two hours interchanging our hack British accents with our hack Southern accents. It was hilarious. If you like that sort of thing...which I do.

Working Hard or Hardly Working

2008-09-15T16:23:00.001-07:00

One day we got an email from our director. We were to show up as early as possible in order to help with building our set. I didn't know that was part of the deal. The prima donna in me was somewhat disturbed...manual labor? Ewww. The drama queen in me was exquisitely frightened...for my own safety and for that of anyone who might come within 10 feet of me and a power tool. The realist in me was anticipating great embarrassment.

Ever responsible and eager for approval, I arrived promptly at the requested time. Still unfamiliar with the lay of the theater, I wandered in and meandered to the room where we had met for our one previous rehearsal. There was an unfamiliar circle of faces in the room reading unfamiliar lines and I frantically scanned the perimeter of the room for someone recognizable. I found them huddled in a corner around what turned out to be a freight elevator and went to join them. There were about five of us, I think, and two were being productive. The other three hung back making various witty comments about how useless it was for us to be there at all...not because there wasn't plenty to do...but rather, because we were likely to do more harm than good. Okay, to be fair, I was the only one making witty comments to that effect. Someone from the circle of line readers approached us with a "shush, we're trying to run lines." I think that if she had heard my hilarious comments, she would have never dreamed of shushing us. At any rate, properly chastised, we buttoned our lips and trooped down into the prop room where the real "help" was to begin.

Witty banter can only take a person so far. Witty banter is how incompetent people deal with the insecurity surrounding their incompetency. Witty banter is where I am a Viking. I'm always amazed by people who can jump into any situation and make themselves incredibly useful. There was a guy there who gave us a rundown of what needed to be accomplished and immediately, everyone started moving as a cohesive set building unit, while I stood stupidly and made jokes. Two people grabbed some old props and started tearing them apart in order to make new props. One person (a GIRL, no less) grabbed some 2x4's or 8x12's or QxR's or something and started feeding them to a motorized death machine (I think the technical term for that is "circular saw"). I stood paralyzed in horror and awe wincing at every wooden scream and sawdust spray and then wandered around saying, "Someone needs to tell me what to do. Someone give me a job to do." How do people just know what to do? I don't know.

The guy in charge had a handful of something and said, "Here, these pencils need to be sharpened." Awesome. "I can sharpen pencils!" I said. And he handed them to me. Now, these were not regular roundy type number two pencils, and there was no pencil sharpener in the house. These were hard core rectangularish SHOP pencils and the only way to sharpen them was with a KNIFE. So I took a knife, and I took a pencil and I sharpened it to a gleaming graphite spear. And then I did it again. And then again. And you can only imagine the thrill that coursed through me when I heard someones desperate cry: "Hey! I need a pencil."

Fade to Black

2008-09-09T17:58:00.000-07:00

I may or may not continue this saga. Today I know I will not. Maybe tomorrow I will. It's all fading so fast...that's an unfortunate fact about the nice things in life. They go away so quickly. I remember sitting next to Beauty one day watching scenes that we were not in being blocked and reblocked and lines being run and rerun. I leaned over to her and said, "It's so weird, but I don't remember this part of the theater at all." She looked at me oddly and said, "What part?" I motioned towards the rehearsal and said, "This...the rehearsal. I only remember performing." We laughed at how silly that was because 90% of a show is rehearsal.

It's true though...I remember the conversations in the dressing rooms and the parties after rehearsals and the cheering of the audience during the curtain calls, but the work surrounding it all is so forgotten. I remember the things I learned that had little to do with rehearsing, but everything to do with the overall experience.

I remember the when my "Mother" in The Glass Menagerie explained to me what she meant when she said that DeeDee and Tiffany* were "affected". I've never forgotten that word...I had never heard it before (in that context). She was describing two girls who put on airs of being far more grown-up and cosmopolitan than they actually were. And it helped me to understand them so much better. Up until that moment, these two girls hovered at the edge of my periphery as two glamorous strangers who held the all of the answers to the feminine mystique. In that moment, their sparkly auras were slightly dimmed, and I found that I was far more interested in having my Mother respect me than to have her lump me in with the "affected" girls. I wonder how I would remember them today if we had never had that conversation.

*names have been changed to protect the innocent

16 Year Olds Are Fun

2008-09-02T17:03:00.000-07:00

Is it normal for a 32 year old woman to thoroughly enjoy conversations with 16 year old boys? Maybe these were unique 16 year old boys, or maybe I have absolutely no concept of my age. Or maybe I'm just a creepy old lady. At any rate, I think I enjoyed the conversations I had with our two 16 year old boys more than just about anyone. They are just fun! One of them had a small part...his lines consisted largely of "Sorry." And as my few lines consisted largely of "Ernie!" we had a good amount of down time during which we discussed the important things in life. I made a brilliant case in defense of The Legend of Zelda as the best NES game of all time. He begged to differ and made his case for Mike Tyson's Punch Out (or Knock Out...or whatever). Was he even born when Nintendo came out? Kids....they think they're so smart. I also learned that The Chocolate Wars and To Kill a Mockingbird are two great books that I really must read. And I came away from our discussions of The Dark Knight with more profound understanding than I had garnished from any such discussions with my grown-up friends.

I absolutely love people when they are at an age where they are dreaming and planning and idealistic and passionate and untainted by many of life's eventual cruelties. That's not to say that millions of 16 year olds haven't encountered more of life's cruelties than I could ever pretend to imagine. I am just compelled to take the ones that haven't yet fully butted heads with the injustice of life and validate every dream and insight that they are willing to lay bare. I also want to take them under my inadequate wing and protect them from every awful thing that lurks in the shadows waiting to devour them.

Both of these boys have dreams of acting...on stage I think...thought I doubt either would turn down an offer of great Hollywood celebrity. My husband was commenting on how interesting it is that guys so young would have such a passion for something like acting - that they would take it upon themselves to audition for plays that are not part of a school sanctioned activity - and that they would do it every opportunity they get. And it is fascinating. I love it. I love the privilege of getting to meet these amazing people who maybe don't buy into everything that "kids" are "supposed" to be. They have real interests and passions which aren't dictated by a desperate desire to be accepted by the coolest of their peers. Ugh...I hope no one ever succeeds in taking those interests and passions away from them. I think if I ever saw someone try, I would have to punch them.

First Impressions

2008-08-27T18:26:00.000-07:00

I was late. Driving from Eden Prairie to Anoka during rush hour (shouldn't rush hour be over by 6:30?) is a tedious venture. The first day of school butterflies were eating each other in my stomach which was a nuisance. That is the technical term for them, by the way; the technical term for the effect they produce is called "high school cafeteria syndrome." The obvious symptom is a regression in thought processes back to said high school cafeteria days. "Will my friends be there? Will I be able to make new friends? Who will I sit with? Will they like me? Will everyone else already have friends? Will there be any picking of teams or pairing off into twos? Will there be an even number? Will I have to be partners with the teacher? Am I dressed right? What do I do with my hands?" That sort of thing.

Someone else was just pulling in when I finally got there, which was nice because I had no idea where to go, and it was very nice to not have to walk into a room of strangers alone. She was obviously not a stranger to the theater and was happy to help me find my way to the rehearsal room. Chairs were arranged in a little circle and I fell into one across from "the Beauty" I had been chummy with at callbacks. Apart from her and the woman I had followed in from the parking lot, I hadn't met anyone else. Unless you count the director, who I couldn't say I had "met" considering I still hadn't managed to have a conversation with her where I had any idea what I was saying. I gave Beauty a little wave and a smile and was relieved to have them returned. One new friend in the bag. There were twelve of us in total and at the time it was impossible to guess what our age range was - but whatever the range, it was thorough. There were two "younger" guys and couple of "older" men and some "middle aged" adults and two "young" women and then me and another guy - I have no idea where 30ish falls on the age barometer - maybe someone who is either 15 or 50 can fill in that blank for me.

I was curious to know if I would discover any of them to be Christians. I had a hunch that there might be some lurking about. Possibly real Christians. I'm trying to remember right now what made me think that...maybe it was a t-shirt someone was wearing at auditions...maybe it was something about an e-mail address I had seen...maybe it was something my mother-in-law had mentioned about the owners of the theater...whatever it was, I was looking for it. I'm always looking for Christians. Real Christians. Not Easter and Christmas Christians, or even every Sunday Christians, or American Christians, or Catholic (or Lutheran or Baptist etc) Christians, but real live bible thumping, yearning for Jesus Christians. And when I say bible thumping, I mean it like Thumper in Bambi I guess..."I'm thumpin', and that's why they call me Thumper"...like, I can't help but thump because it's just so good, but I'm not going to thump you upside the head. And when I say yearning for Jesus, I mean a bone deep aching love and yearning. Like the kind that Bella Swan has for Edward Cullen or that Gollum has for his "precious" but in a good way and magnified a million times. These kind of Christians are awfully hard to come by - particularly in a politically correct secular office environment or *gasp* The Theater. Of course, I like to think that I am one of them...but I'm afraid I keep it on the down-low to a fairly shameful degree, so who knows, we're probably everywhere.

I was also very curious to discover how this theater experience would be different than those I knew twelve years ago. The former days, as wonderful as they were, did serve to feed my vanity; they gave me purpose and meaning and value. And I'm well aware at this point in my life that charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting and therefore vanity is not something worth feeding. No matter how much you feed it, it is going to betray you and leave you more desperate than you ever imagined possible. I had landed in that desperate place and was allowed to rise up from it clean and safe and less desperate than I ever imagined possible. So, I was curious to discover what theater life would be like on this side of grace.

We started the read through event with (horror of horrors) an ice breaker. Thankfully, it didn't involve removing our shoes or telling about our first kiss or anything like that. It was a Tupperware party sort of ice breaker - "Tell us your name, whether this is your first time acting at this theater, and...umm...your favorite kind of ice cream." I much prefer to be at the beginning of these circles. I was sort of in the middle, which gave the first day of school butterflies ample opportunity to start feasting once again. Ugh. What would I say? Could I come up with something witty and clever? Something that would win their hearts for all of time? I like all ice creams! It's not right to make me choose a favorite! It passed rather painlessly, I have no recollection of any one's favorite ice cream. I think that one lady was jotting it all down - unfortunately it was not for purposes of surprising us on a random occasion with custom selected ice cream treats. What was very nice to discover was that many of us were in the same situation in that we had never acted at this theater before. A few had, of course, and some had even been in plays there together. The familiarity that they shared wasn't the sort infused with inside jokes and other pretentiousness...it was more a reflection of the camaraderie that I hoped the future held for all of us.

It was strange to survey a circle of twelve people that I did not know yet, knowing that I would become increasingly intimate with them in the weeks to come, and then would possibly drift away from many of them (if not all) forever. There is a bittersweetness about the whole experience...but it is something I would not trade for all the world.

No Small Parts

2008-08-21T17:54:00.000-07:00

They said the cast would be posted online that Tuesday. At least that's how I remember it. At 7 AM on Tuesday they had not yet posted anything. Artsy-fartsies simply cannot be trusted. I checked the website with obsessive consistency throughout the day. I kept trying to limit myself to once every half hour...but five minutes after I checked I would think, "They might have just posted it." And so I would check again. I really didn't know how it would work. Would they call the winners first, or would they really just announce them online? There were three plays to cast...would they be casting the same people in multiple roles? That would certainly decrease the odds. It was maddening, the waiting, the not knowing. That night when I was about to crawl into bed heartsick with grief, my phone rang. It was the director of one of the plays. She was offering me a part. "It's a small part," she said, "I would call it a character part. I think you would appear about three times. Is that something you would be interested in?" My heart was pounding and I could feel my face burning. Now here is the stupid thing. The human ego is really a monstrous thing and the heart of a man (or woman) is wicked beyond any comprehension. My first gut reaction was to be disappointed that I wasn't being offered a starring role. As my wise husband reminded me later when I confessed this gross little foible, "You didn't even think you would get a callback." Over the sound of blood rushing through my ears, I heard my voice answer correctly, "Yes, I would be very interested." She gave me information about when the first read through of the script would be and I hung up the phone. I was fairly irritated with myself to realize that I hadn't thanked her, nor had I any recollection whatsoever of what her name was.

My sister-in-law saw the official announcement online before I did and she emailed me with congratulations and a reminder to print the page. I was excited to see that one of the girls I had met at callbacks was cast as "the beauty." I wasn't even jealous. We older, wiser women must pass the torch to the younger generation, mustn't we? With all gentleness, humility and maturity. Bah. But honestly, I was thrilled to know that I would already have a friend.

It was really only a matter of a day or so before I had a more proper perspective on the situation. Dan was so right! I had been convinced that the audition had completely bombed and in spite of that, I was now going to be on STAGE! It was finally really truly going to happen. The size of the part couldn't possibly matter. One of my favorite theater memories is of playing a courtesan in "A Funny thing Happened on the Way to the Forum." I had no lines and was on stage for all of 30 seconds, but the memories I have are of the fun we girls had in rehearsals learning our courtesan dances and of doing the Charleston backstage during performances while we waited for our cues. The experience as a whole is ultimately worth so much more than the number of lines. In fact (and this may just be more psychological hooey), it's possible that getting a small part gave me a greater opportunity to connect with the rest of the cast on in a way that might not have been possible if I'd had a million lines to worry about memorizing. Or even fifteen lines.

The Audition

2008-07-01T18:34:00.000-07:00

I auditioned for a play.

Tucked away in a scrapbook somewhere is a community college newspaper review of a performance I gave 12 years ago that was nothing short of spectacular. Every time I have called the performance to mind over the passing years, it has grown grander and more magnificent. For one glorious year 12 years ago, I was a relatively big fish in a relatively small pond and I tasted the thrill of being a small town stage diva.

When I moved from Brainerd to "the Cities", I told myself and everyone who asked that I was going to try to be an actress. My move had nothing to do with the boy I had met just a month or two earlier. Sure it didn't. I was young and pretty (and vain) and had every confidence in the world that whenever I decided to grace an audition with my presence, I would then become an actress. And so there was no real hurry. I looked in the paper at audition notices on occasion (this was when the "internet" was still mainly only available on a pay per minute basis). I think I called on one once...but I never got around to going. And then this boy and I fell in love and around that same time, I was blindsided by Jesus and suddenly everything was different. Different interests, different priorities, different loves, different values. It seemed such a frivolous thing to want to act on a stage. It seemed desparate. So the dream just settled into history as happy memories to be pulled out from time to time to offer validation or add interest to an otherwise dull autobiography.

And yet, through all the years of practical life, there has always been a longing...not a desparation...just a longing. The memories that I have of the brief time I spent on stage are some of the happiest memories I know. They are memories of belonging, of excelling, of laughing, of comraderie, of inventing, of creating, of living. And so at long last, I decided to hunt for an audition.

There is a terrific theatre that my hubby and I saw "Guys and Dolls" at a few years ago. For whatever reason, this theatre struck me as one that would be great fun to be involved in, and also seemed a more accessible and less intimidating option than any others I am aware of. From time to time, when the acting bee would start buzzing in my proverbial bonnet, I would check that theatre's website and look at their audition postings. Everytime I checked, they were either auditioning for a musical (too scarey) or had just posted a new cast list. But finally, on one happy Sunday afternoon, I checked again, and lo and behold, they were holding auditions that very week for an evening of three one act plays written by the lovely Agatha Christie. And so, with much fear and trembling, I determined that I would give it a go. And I did.

The experience itself was moderately terrifying. The only auditions I had ever attended had involved a room full of many people reading scenes together. This audition was a complete unknown to me. It lasted all of 4 minutes. I entered a room all alone and faced a panel of three strange but smiling faces and one face that never looked up during the process. This face just sat in the corner writing things. I called this face "bad cop". I read a little monologue that was provided from one of the plays being auditioned for...badly, I thought. So badly. And then I was asked to read it again with more dripping sarcasm and less mystery. And so I tried. It was awful and then it was over. And then it was awful all weekend. I replayed the minutes over and over...mourning an opportunity lost. "I am a genius of dripping sarcasm! Why didn't I try harder to prove it?"

Dan (husband) and I took Penny (dog) for a walk on Sunday, the day after the event. I had been trying all the self psychology I could think of to make it less awful. "At least I did it." "It was a great learning experience." "I will be less nervous next time." "Next time I will try actually ACTING (instead of just reading)." These were all true statements of course, but really complete crap as they did nothing to soothe the awful. And then around 2 in the afternoon, I got a glorious phone call from a dear sweet lady inviting me to a call back audition the following evening.

The callback was a completely different experience. There were about 30 of us there and instantly I remembered everything that I loved about the theater. Everyone was friendly, many were strange, some were pretty, some were not, some were old, some were young, and there was one lady there who I think was straight-up crazy. We all sat in a hallway making fast friends with whoever sat next to us. "Have you acted here before?" "Where did you drive from?" "Have you seen any of the scripts?" "What other plays have you done?" And then we were herded into the same room that the original audition had taken place in. It was far less frightening filled with 30 nervous and excited actors. And "bad cop" was nowhere to be seen.

And then my ego took a hit. The directors handed out scripts for scenes with parts we were being concidered for. It was at that moment that I discovered that 12 years had taken "pretty" and "young" away from me...although "vain" was obviously not going to be defeated. I was asked to read for "Mom" and "Emmeline...a grim woman." Ouch. What about "An extremely pretty young woman" and "The Beauty"? Alas, a grim part is better than no part. And I know a lot of pretty, young moms. With my vain head held high, I retreated to the hall with the rest of the cattle where we waited for our moment to shine.