Hello Darlin', Nice To See You

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

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

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

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

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:

1. Never assume you know what the director is thinking. Ever. You are not so very clever.
2. Never assume that the director will be casting from the handful of people you see at callbacks.
3. 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.
4. 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

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

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!

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

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

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

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?

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

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??

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.