So, why are you carrying a trapper keeper?

Okay, so whatever, I'm supposed to be doing dialects homework on Southern Accents, but I don't feel like it right now, and I'll do it soon; besides, I have a plethora of stuff to discuss.

Firstly: Auditions.

Saturday, I had auditions. For the theatre company thing at WCU. So, I had picked out 2 monologues, had learned them, refined them, did them in front of the Anne Frank cast, reworked them entirely after said experience, and I felt good. Not good enough to get in; but good.

So, I picked my outfit out, prepared myself in every way possible, updated my resume, took a new headshot:



This is what you want a piece of, but can't have, loverssss.

Anyhoo, so I'm ready, and I go to said auditions. I get there an hour early, sign up to be fourth to get it over with and then go into the design lab to wait. Now, this is usually the part where I get super nervous and begin shaking; similar to that You're A Good Man Charlie Brown audition in the 9th grade. A brief recap:

I had never auditioned for singing before; terrified, I shuffle into the room. Mrs. Brooks is on the piano; Huck next to her. They sing something simple; something patriotic, but I do not remember because I was in shambles. He started singing the theme to the show. I muttered along with him. I was white as a sheet and they literally, literally asked me if I needed to go to the hospital.

This is how my nerves are my enemy.

Something similar happened at my other audition; nerves got the better of me, and it was a disaster. This was the one where all I got was "...so. You've got nice stage presence...?"

So, in preparation for this, I brought my Bible. So basically; while everyone is pacing the room and the hallways, making weird guttural noises, nervously chattering among their friends, I'm busy sitting there reading my Bible. But, I will say that I was as calm as a leaf, and I knew, regardless, that Jesus was with me. I felt as if I had some hidden secret; something very many people lack.

So, they call me "on deck," which is where you wait outside the audition hall for your turn. I sit there, everyone else on deck paces, and I chit chat with the stage hand. Don't think I didn't have focus; I just felt overwhelmingly calm.

I went in, and I felt good. My three judges were friendly. I knew, in my heart, that I didn't really know what they wanted; but I knew what I knew, so I did the best I could. (which was all I asked for; It didn't feel right to ask to get in.)

After both my monologues, Peter asked me to redo part of my first one with a clear objective of desperation in mind. As I have previously stated, objectives are often foggy with me, but he was clear, and I was grateful. He told me I had focused too much on character, and not enough on said objective; which I agreed, because I'm horrible at objectives. I made choices; he was glad. We just needed to break my "musical theatre acting mode" which, is not necessarily a bad thing.

So, I did the monologue, and if I can say so, I did it very, very well. I got a laugh from DV for said monologue, and oh I rejoiced. DV then told me all about how I had evolved from Acting 1, and he could tell I had really worked on being less energetic and more natural. I was "on the right path" and had "improved leaps and bounds."

They didn't say anything about my Anne Frank monologue; which, I take it, meant it was wonderful. (And I did it the way I had learned it in rehearsals; Scotty for the win.)

Afterwards, I felt accomplished. I didn't feel as if I had gotten in; but I was happy with my feedback, grateful I could actually do it and not be scared, and blessed to know I was moving forward.

Saying all this, I got on the tech crew...

:(

Initially, I was upset. But, I began to count my blessings, and I realized that I am on the plus side of this situation. First off, I have God, which is more than can be said for a lot of them poor theatre kids. And although they are winning the parts now, I have the ultimate prize. How can anyone be remotely upset with that in mind?

As I told Chris, "When God closes a door, he opens a window." I know it's cliche, but I believe it.

Regardless, I still obtained the part of Anne in The Diary of Anne Frank so, at the end of the day, a few scenes in Niggli are nothing compared to playing the title character in a 1500 seat theatre. So, at the end of the day, who has come out on top? Inevitably, I am blessed. Thank you God, Thank you Scotty.

Speaking of Chris, he is in said company. He's in Peter's play Romantic Fools and plays, a caveman and a wedding planner. On hearing this, we had the following conversation:

Chris: I'm the caveman. (beat)

Me: Well that's good; good character role.

Chris: Yes, but Tim has already done it. When I went to the callbacks, they told me to do it exactly like how he did it. So I did. So, inevitably, it isn't even my character, but someone else's with a few minor changes.

Me: Well... at least you look like a Neanderthal.

Chris: If you say that again, I'm going to club you in the face.

Me: This coming from the guy who tells me at least twice a day that I have the most beautiful mustache? And why are you carrying a trapper keeper?

Chris: IT ISN'T A TRAPPER KEEPER! IT'S A HOLDER FOR MY HEADSHOTS! DO I LOOK LIKE I'M IN THE FIFTH GRADE? WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID?!

Of course from there, it went with the usual bickering: "Why are you a jerk, it's because you're so stupid, shut up, no you shut up, NO YOU SHUT UP, your mom told me to shut up last night, etc."

According to Mr. Negative, the whole system was flawed. The only reason he's in is because he's a favourite, and this is the reason lots of good people didn't get in is because of this. He's disappointed because these good people did not get in, he's mad because someone else got all 'his' roles, etc. etc. I can tell he's down; I can't imagine why, but I have a feeling it has something to do with keeping unrealistic expectations for too long and reality is looming it's ugly face. Either that or the spandex he wore the class earlier has made him irritable.

I'll be writing more later, but for the time being I have dialects, dialects, dialects and I have forgotten entirely how to score vowels. D: Which requires a dazzling amount of extra research, including reviewing voice and articulation again. Yuck.

Besides, this blog ended up being much too long, and went from a weird narrative, to immensely sentimental, to being full of aggravation. I leave you for now.

-Me