Friday, July 23, 2010

Rainstorms and Fireflies

Tuesday, July 13

This morning, I give Northern Stage another shot and show up for their ECC.  If  I can't be Dorothy, maybe they'll consider me for one of the munchkins.  Really, I just want to be a part of somebody's Oz.  If I start out as a munchkin, maybe I can work my way up the ladder and play Elphaba someday.  That is, when I'm no longer cast within the confines of type. Ugh.

High hopes.  No such luck.  I'm #2 on the list, but the two-hour long call fills quickly, and it's closed by 10am.  

With the rest of the morning and afternoon wide open, I decide to do something productive and head for Trader Joe's.  The new Chelsea store opened yesterday, and I can't wait to see it.  Hopefully, it's bigger than the one in Union Square.

Hallelujah!  It's amazing.  HUGE isles and more selection than I could ever ask for.  Granted, it's the middle of the day, but the lines are actually reasonable, and they're certainly not wrapped around half the store.  I load up on the good stuff and reassure myself as I lug it all home that the strawberries and peaches are worth the extra effort.  

I get off the train at 68th Street/Hunter College and surface in the middle of a deluge.  Some guy is hawking umbrellas, and tidy businesswomen shrug and skitter along under their newspapers, umbrellas, and cardigans.  I delight in the thought of Seattlites mercilessly mocking them.  Please.  It's just rain.

I cram my purse and duffel plus the two bags of groceries onto an over-crowded bus--thanks to the weather--and only have to haul it three blocks after my stop.  It's all my paper bags can handle (of course, this is the one day I shop without my sturdy eco-friendly recycled bags).  Just as I let myself into the door of my building, the bottom of one bag busts, and the second bag only makes it to my door five flights up.  What an adventure.  Good thing I have nowhere to be.  God has a great sense of humor.

Later that night, I head to lower Manhattan for my first scheduled audition--such a luxury these days!  It's for Urinetown: the Musical, a show I did with Rick Hornor my junior year at Whitworth.  The production company works specifically with young actors ages 18-35 looking to break into the business.  My audition is scheduled for 6:55, but I'm so worried about being on-time (or early), that I walk in the door at 6:05.  I can hear people auditioning through the door, and I'm happy to find that I sing as well or better than most of the folks here.  For once, I don't feel completely out of my league.  


They work me in early, and I sing a cut from "I'm Not Afraid of Anything" (Songs for a New World), a song I remember Alicia Doyl recommending to me my freshman year at Whitworth.  Turns out, the song and I are a really good match. :)  The room is tiny--a glorified closet, really--and despite my enthusiasm and gratitude for the chance to sing, I almost cringe at the thought of being in their position.  Voices like mine are not meant for small rooms.  Sorry, lovely people behind the table.


They have me read a side in the role of Hope (when she's tied up and telling it straight to Bobby), and I even get a couple laughs.  Sweet.  Cheesy, satirized ingenue.  Eat your heart out. 

On my way out, I'm told that I'll hear within a day or two about callbacks.  I don't get a call.  Well...next!


I scurry home and swap out my dress and heels for shorts and a blanket and make my way to Central Park.  Tonight is a free New York Philharmonic concert on the Great Lawn.  It's insane how many people are here.  The upside to going solo in this city is that one little person can squeeze her way into some small spots.  Which is exactly what I do.  I find my own little square of grass and make myself at home amidst the mob of classical music lovers.  The show is fantastic.  The Shanghai Symphony is here, too, with guest performances from some of Asia's greatest opera stars.  I call Patti and leave a message on her phone, with a soprano solo in the background, of course.  Wish she could be here. :)


Around 9:00, the concert begins to wrap up, and the fireflies come out.  SO pretty!  That's one East Coast thing I wish we had at home.  They still surprise me, and every time I see them, I think of the Owl City song and Whitworth and all my friends...and how much I miss everyone already.  Love you. :)

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