My nose is running, I can barely sing anymore, one of my calves is spasming, and I’m on every allergy/cold/throat medication and over the counter pain killer known to man. But you know what? On Thursday, I get to make people moo with me. I’d say that’s a pretty fair trade, wouldn’t you?
As an addendum to that last post, I’d just like to mention that as a result of my “energy run” interpretation of Over the Moon tonight, I’m not allowed to sing it again until we open, the pit will now have to transpose Take Me or Leave Me down a whole step, and I’m on vocal rest for an indeterminate amount of time (my conservative estimate is until beach week).
At least people liked it when I took off my shirt!
I think the fact that I get to sing “Take Me or Leave Me” on a stage in front of people in a little over a week just hit me.
Also hitting me: this is probably the coolest fucking role I will ever have.
I am somehow treading that fine, fine line between being really zen about my life and pleased with myself, and being that weird, sad sort of conflicted that I am 60% of the time.
Weird. It’s weird.
One of the keys to morning-after Bodo’s runs is to possess a hoodie large enough that no one can tell you really didn’t feel like putting a bra on. This way, you can get back to doing super important things, like getting the fuck back in bed with your ham-egg-and-cheddar-on-whole-wheat-everything and wishing that some magical Donna Reed fairy would take care of the mountain of laundry in the middle of your floor, that much quicker.
“Abject failure” is such a great turn of phrase. I’m almost sad I don’t get to use it more, but then again, it’s nice that - at the very least - my life is not a series of abject failures.
Tell me how this makes sense:
Today, I auditioned for next semester’s shows. One was a gritty, postmodern straight play, the other is…well, the other is a musical. I got called back for two characters for one and boned from the other.
True story: the one I actually got called back for was the musical.
Fun fact about the true story: The two characters (well, one character and slightly defined ensemble role) I got called back for are both young girls. Let me explain something - I didn’t play young girls even when I WAS one.
To go ahead and answer my own question, no, it doesn’t make any damn sense. But am I questioning it? Of course not.
Even better band name: Payton Drake and the Executive Decision to Not Wear Pants