Snowstorm 2016!

We've been receiving news in the city of an incoming snow storm, our first of the season.  About a week ago we had our first snowfall, but it was so slight that it really just dotted the yards and sidewalks for an evening and was gone by the ext morning.  This storm?  This was supposed to be "the one".  Reports varied pretty wildly, from five inches to possible twelve inch snowfalls.  Flights had been changed in anticipation, I got advice to "shop up" before it got here, and be prepared for things to shut down.  Thus far, however, I had not heard mention of "snowpocalypse", which had been bandied about last year, and then turned out in large to be a disappointment (if it can be said to be a disappointment when a storm anticipated to shut down the city and damage businesses doesn't end up doing that).  Reports as to when this storm would arrive also varied, as some said it would begin Friday afternoon, and others believed it would start on Saturday.

I, unfortunately cannot tell you exactly when it arrived.  As of 8PM last night, all was well.  I've been dog sitting for my dear friend in Queens, and after my Yorkie friend and I took a walk around the block, I microwaved a Lean Cuisine, started up Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone and we cuddled up, waiting for the snow to "bring it".

Well, it came.  Our window overlooks the apartment's rooftop, which is at covered with at least three to four inches of snow.

NEWS UPDATE:  I'm streaming WNYC as I type this, and I've been told that we may get 18-20 inches.  Lord.  I didn't take anybody's advice.  I didn't "shop up" as I was told to", and if everything is closed, I will be living off cans of vegetable soup until further notice.  Which isn't the worst news.  Think what it will do to my figure!!??!

An Optimistic Outlook for 2016

This past year was a pretty monumental one as far as life changes go, and no matter what happens now, 2015 willRegardless of what happens in this city, it will forever be the year I got up the courage to move to New York City, a decision I'd been skirting for years.  But a lot of tiny events came together to make it happen, and I am so grateful to those events and those people who were a part of that, and to those who make it a place I still want to be.

I'm grateful to Kirk and Heather, who provided a place for me to get my bearings and were my ambassadors to this real life Emerald City.  I'm thankful for my dear friend Leslie Carrara Rudolph, who is a constant source of mirth and heartfelt support.  I'm thankful to my family most of all, who have given my little dog a perfect second home and told me to "go for it", in spite of the fact they worried for me, and probably continue to worry for me.  I'm grateful to my dear friends in Austin, who have been such a lifeline when I'm roaming the streets of New York feeling a little untethered.  I'm grateful to my new friends here, especially those at The New York Transit Museum, for showing me what amazing things are here.  And, I'm grateful to whatever it is in me that decided to do this after fearing it so long.

For years, every time I hear or read or otherwise encounter that quote about your heart's desire being found in the thing you fear most, I would think "yep, that's probably true".  I also knew without giving it much thought, what I feared most and wanted most.  And then I would go about planning a future that did not include my coming face to face with that deep desire and deepest fear.  Chicago?  Possibly.  Seattle??  It's a thought.  New York??  Not possible.

It's safe to say that if Kirk and Heather hadn't come here first I may never have gotten up the guts to do this.  My idea of what's possible for me has been limited by fear and doubt.   It's a daily struggle to stretch those limitations, and sometimes t's easier to give in to television or sleep or donuts than it is to move forward, but it is happening.   When these efforts feel pointless I'm often reminded of a quote from the book From Beast To Blonde, one I read more than fifteen years ago and that I've spent a lot of time trying to relocate (it's a behemoth of a book).  It's probably the most inspiring and comforting quote I've ever read, and I can't begin to paraphrase it aptly, but it spoke about fairy tales, specifically Russian fairy tales, and how the most common theme in them is that if you declare your intentions and have faith to step out into the world, the world will come to your aid in unimaginable ways.  It's seen again and again when the young boy or girl, underestimated by a world that favors brute strength, ventures on a quest, shows kindness on his or her journey, and is aided by those she helps along the way.  Every time in the past when I had a tough decision to make, and asked myself "should I?" I've thought of that quote, and whether or not I had the courage to follow its advice, it shaped so many of my decisions.  I know there's a much simpler quote (a bible quote?) but for me, it was never said better than in that book that I happened upon back then.

So, I'm grateful to be here, feeling the feelings, and I'm attempting to be grateful even for those experiences that have been far from pleasant.  But what now?  Well, for one, I'm committed to making further advances in my creative journey.

A few days ago I had my first session with a pianist that was so encouraging.  There have been times in the past few years when came to doubt that I had any vocal chops, or that I could make my way through this crowd of talent.  To feel somewhat championed by a talented, new to me face who has heard a lot of singers, gave me a much needed boost as well as some terrific advice on the crafting of my "book" (the book of sheet music that goes with me to each audition) and how to tailor it to what I have to offer.

My next step will be an audition for a straight play coming up on the 22nd of this month, followed by a musical audition for agents.  It's an ongoing climb, but I'm keeping the faith that the climb is worth it, no matter what.

Rainbow's World

On my way home to Texas I was somewhat desperately looking for a book to tide me over on the airplane trip home, as I'd just finished my last one, and I've never been one who listens to podcasts or music on a plane ride, because it's such a perfect time to catch up on reading.  I had plenty of time in the Newark Airport, as I'd arrive three hours prior to my flights departure, and it was delayed even further by weather issues in Colorado (go figure).  I'd pretty much covered the entire store, but hadn't made it to YA.  There's a reason.  I always feel like a creepy old man in the "Young Adult" section.  Like I'm A- someone who refuses to grow up and thinks I still AM a teen, or B-  I want to spy on the teens of America like some kind of a peeping Tom.  And it's not that I haven't read Young Adult fiction, it's just not my number one or number two choice, and any time I do it feels like a guilty pleasure (a term I'm not a huge fan of, as I usually think we should like what we like and be proud of all our pleasures unless there really is something harmful to others in them).

This is the long way of explaining what guided me to Rainbow Rowell's take on the world of magic and schools of sorcery, Carry On.  I'd heard a lot of wonderful things about Rowell's work, mostly of her award winning novel Eleanor and Park, and I'm so glad that I decided to plunge into her world.

It's not her plotting that makes her stand out, but her style, and the intense amount of warmth and optimism that she infuses these characters with.  There's a sense of optimism in her, a sense that made the loneliness of being a new person in the big city seem to evaporate for a while.   I loved these people in her fictional world and I wanted to make them my friends.  Pathetic as it may seem, that feeling of escape, that sense of not being alone for awhile, that's one of the great big giant reasons I read.  I read in the hope of getting lost in something other than myself.

If I think about it, it's one of the reasons I got into acting, and singing, and writing (although writing sometimes seems to have the opposite affect while I'm in the process, placing me in direct confrontation with myself)... but I digress.

Once I finished the book, as the days passed, the more I wanted to go back to her world, to steep in her ideas.  But mostly I wanted more Simon and Baz, the central characters in Carry On.  Luckily, there was a place to go for exactly that thing.  Because here's the somewhat unique origin story of The World of Mages.  It was created as a fictional Potter universe for Cath, the main character in Rowell's novel Fangirl, to obsess over, and stories of Simon and Baz are sprinkled throughout.

In fact, Rowell loved the characters so much that she decided to expand their lives and give them a book of their own.  I loved this book nearly as much as the first, and will definitely read everything she writes until I've sopped up every bit of her writing.

If you are thinking of reading her, there are a few different entry points.  If you don't want to read YA, she has also written a couple of adult novels, and if you aren't into fantasy, you could start with Eleanor and Park.

That said, if you are thinking of reading about Simon Snow, I would highly recommend reading Carry On before reading Fangirl, as it will give you a purer perspective to be introduced to the story. But regardless of what book you start with, I encourage you to start.

Severus Snape In Chronological Order

We lost Alan Rickman on Thursday, days after the passing of David Bowie, and while I feel enough people are speaking about both of their contributions to culture both in film and music, I did want to share a clip I found of Alan Rickman's important scenes from the Harry Potter films.  The link promised me it would have me feeling all the feelings, and it did.  I would give a small warning.  If you have any pride, don't watch it in a Starbucks, but in the privacy of your own home.

Having watched this, it reminds me how emotional and evocative those films were in bringing Hogwarts and it's universe to life.  I'll always be a fan of the fiction first, but a revisitation of the movies is definitely in order.

New York At Christmas Time

It's true what they say about New York at the holiday season.  It really is a joyous time and place to be.  Especially if you are in the heart of the city and wandering through Rockefeller Center, or eyeing the famous holiday window displays.

A great new friend of mine from the Transit Museum suggested we go do this very New York activity and I'm so glad we followed through on our plans.  I couldn't have asked for a better traveling companion.

The Peninsula

The historic French Building

The theme at Saks 5th Avenue was "A Winter Palace"

The entire wall of Saks displayed an incredible light show

This was by far my favorite window, from Bergdorf's

As we wandered about, taking in the sights, I couldn't help but think how much my mom would love this, and how great it would be to be able to show the windows to her next year.

In between shops, Polly and I stepped into St Patrick's Cathedral and lit a candle. It was awe inspiring, the grandeur and sheer size of it. It's impossible to convey it through photos.

Rockefeller Center was a fitting final stop.

All I Got Out of This Audition Was A Lousy Peppermint Candle And A Small Sense Of Accomplishment

I had a major breakthrough this week, and while I'm not exactly blushing with pride, I do feel a good bit of accomplishment.  Drum roll please... (knowing that after the drumroll you will be thoroughly underwhelmed) Thursday I auditioned for my first musical in New York!

I had two that I was interested in, both of them for possible replacement spots on currently running Broadway (Chicago) and Off-Broadway (Avenue Q) shows.  I had plenty of notice to prepare, and yet... postponed that preparation.  My mind said I needed to get ahold of a pianist and go over my 16-32 bar audition pieces.  My wallet told me I didn't have enough funds, and my chorus of ever present demons chimed in that I didn't really know an available pianist (forget about the fact that I have friends who audition and know pianists and that if I put in some effort I could get ahold of one).  

 A few of their favorite ditties were (are):

• The "What if it comes out in cracks and croaks, you've had a sore throat lately" Blues
• The "Are you prepared enough" Samba
• The "You're Too Fat" Polka.  
• The "Where the Fuck Are You Going To Practice, You Have Roommates and Thin Walls" Rag

I had a bit of a crisis the night before the first audition, as buried in sheet music, I tried to pull myself together.  I called a couple friends for support, floundered in pages of music, and ultimately let my demons win that particular battle.  At the end of the night I resolved to skip the first audition and focus all my efforts on the second.

Of course, two nights later I was again covered in sheet music.  I wanted to be as prepared as I possibly could be at that short of a time frame, so I pulled out a book entitled The Enraged Accompanist's Guide To The Perfect Audition.  This was not helpful reading material at that particular moment.  It did help me to see that:

1. My "book" (the book of sheet music one carries to every audition in case they are asked to sing another selection) wasn't big enough
2. I didn't have an index of songs- fuck, I didn't really even have a book!  I had four songs, many of which have been over sung and over heard
3. I didn't have tabs to clearly separate the songs.
4. I didn't have separate copies of each song in 16 and 32 bar versions.

What was the fucking point?  If you can't do it right...?

I nearly dumped the whole thought of auditioning, and yet, in spite of my nerves, I plugged on.  In these circumstances it helps that I am relatively self-aware and know that I always get these kinds of crazy nerves right before a show opens or an audition, or a first date, or a job interview, and I knew that these would pass and they didn't mean the end of my personal world.  It also helped that my dear friend and roommate was there to coax me through.

As a result of my perseverance, I was up the next morning, book in hand, and out the door bright and early.  I was about thirtieth in the line to audition, which ain't bad, and I remained pretty positive and up-beat for quite a while.  Admittedly, this became a little more difficult as time went on.    Why?  Because an audition room, overflowing with distressed "musical theatre people" and all the over the top antics that term implies, is essentially a theatrical war zone.

The first of us there line up around the perimeter of the room and sit in the seats.  Everyone else has to line up behind us in a kind of snaky indecipherable line.  God help you if you unknowingly enter the room and sit in what you think is a crowd of haphazardly arranged people.  You will undoubtedly be told in no uncertain terms, by a girl with false eyelashes, ankle boots and a panda bear hat, that you are "fucking up the line".  A nasal voiced gay man will then tell you where to go.  He tells you this not because he has any skin in the game, but because he has been jumping into the middle of everyone's conversation and giving "advice" on how to behave.  Amongst the other catty and awful things I hear him say, he freely admits that he is "that guy" at the audition.  I don't disagree.

Of course, there were plenty of sweet people, open faced and slightly hesitant, and had I not been in survival mode myself, I would have taken comfort in them.  Perhaps I would have remembered that everyone was feeling a little insecure and deep down we were all afraid that we did not belong in that room.  But I couldn't think about that because I was too concerned about the red head who came in squealing and knew EVERYONE in the room.  Watching her make the rounds was a bit like watching a playlet entitled I Know All The People In This Audition Room and I Deserve To Be Here by Bitsy Rothschild.  It didn't help that the play she was performing for us all was a musical.  No joke.  She literally sang everything she said.  "I'm so happy to come to auditions so I can see all my frieeeeeeeeeeeends!"  

Eventually it came time to sign up and I signed up for a spot early enough so that I wouldn't have to leave and come back later in the afternoon.  Before I headed out the door for a while, the monitor reminded us all that we had to be back at least ten minutes before our call time or our spot would be given away.  I'd been to other auditions and seen people go home in tears because they came into the room three minutes after their name had been called.  These Equity Monitors mean business.

I headed out to the city, wondered around, had breakfast, and wondered into A Whole Foods Store.  It was my first time in one in six months, as they don't litter the streets in NYC like they do in Austin.  Being there felt like coming into contact with a very welcome piece of home, and I found the perfect holiday candle, on sale, in a mason jar with a silver top and a red bow.   Peppermint Vanilla.  I hadn't been able to decorate my apartment for Christmas and it had left me a little blue.  I had decorated for Christmas every year since I moved out of my folks house.  This year there wasn't a stick of Christmas in our apartment, and I at least wanted it to smell like Christmas in the apartment, even if it wouldn't look like Christmas.  I went away with a little paper bag full of peppermint dreams and headed back up to the audition.  

At this moment my issues with space and directions nearly undid me.   I couldn't remember where the holding room was for the audition, and by now the hallway was abuzz with other auditions.  I finally found what seemed like my room, and yet it turns out that one big wood floored room with a bunch of folding chairs lining the mirrored wall looks a lot like another. As a result I spent ten minutes waiting in the holding room for Shuffle Along before I realized my mistake and raced to the right one just a minute before my spot would have been given away.

After all of that, the audition itself was pretty uneventful.  I wasn't amazing, but I didn't shame myself either.  The pianist and the auditioned were very nice, seemed pleased enough, and before I knew it, it was over.  I was not asked to sing something else, and I don't know if that's a blanket dismissal, and yet, I was proud.  I had broken the seal.  I had tested the waters of musical auditions and not been scalded.  

The realization on the way back to my apartment that I had left my precious Peppermint candle on the 2 Train soured my outlook a little.  But over all, I'm claiming it as a victory against the demons within.  

Can I Get A V?

I!

C!

...You know the rest.

Three Weeks Through and Feeling Blue

Feeling like a failure today.  Did everyone else know that this was going to happen?  That I would make it halfway through Nanowrimo (for the record I still hate that abbreviation) and then I would stall?  I got 25,000 words through and have struggled since that point.

It was the same old thing where you miss a day and the thought of doing twice the amount of work the next day to make up for the day you missed, well it becomes overwhelming, so you miss that day also, and then, well fuck.  Before you know it you have three days of work to complete in one day, and it's daunting enough to get 1600 in one day that are worth anything, let alone 4,000 plus.  

"Don't worry about the quality" the bloggers say.  "Just get it out there".  And to them I say "go fuck yourself.  I'm not going to waste 50 - 60 hours of my life writing garbage.  Even with an outline, after 25,000 words it is easy to lose track of what you have, the seeds you're trying to plant, the characters you've created.  So I went back.  And I started to revise.  And I stalled.  

At first, it seemed justifiable, because I was going through and expanding the old copy at the same time I adjusted and removed sections, so I still got my words done.  But then, it wasn't happening like that, and I spent an hour and half on revising and didn't have my words, and neither did I have the heart to go and write them, especially knowing they would be in the baby phase compared to some of the more sculpted passages I had revised and honed.  So it turned out the bloggers were right.    SCREW YOU BLOGGERS AND YOUR ACCURATE INFORMATION!!!

I am now trying to pick up the pieces. As of today I am 14,666 words behind where I should be.  I could let it go at that and promise myself I will work away at this book, knowing that without the deadline it will be that much harder to finish it.  Add in the amount of failure I am feeling at the moment and you've got a decided lack of motivation to complete the story that will not always feel worthy of the effort it will take to finish it.  

So here's what I can commit to as of today.  I can recommit to getting 1667 words for the next six days.  At which point I should have 35,342 words of the piece.  Hardly a failure, even if it isn't considered "winning" in the eyes of the almighty NANOWRIMO peeps.

Feeling a touch better about the situation.  Not perfect, but am realizing this isn't the end of my journey with this process yet.

A Weekend In Astoria

Tomorrow marks the halfway point of National Novel Writing Month, and I'm pleased to say that I am currently at 22,000 words and on target to complete 50,000 words by the end of the month.  I understand how daunting it can be, because the minute the words come out on that blank page they are so inadequate.  They're the children you hide in the closet because "something ain't right".   And it can be daunting because, while the words are coming out on the page, the question remains... are they quality?  And just how much sense is this all going to make when I reach the end?  Add to that, the fact that most editors expect a novel to be, not 50,000 words, but 60,000.  Which, in truth is refreshing, because at my current point, I am not halfway through the novel.  More like, just under a third.

However, there are some upbeat points to make here.  Around the third or fourth day I got behind, and it was pretty daunting for awhile there because my goal to stay on target at points was 3-3,500 and not the easier daily goal.  Which made it very difficult to go back and fine tune pieces of the novel and turn them into something worth reading.  Now, I know most people say DO NOT GO BACK, I understand.  And I understand the danger, but I myself need to know I have something that is solid- not mind shatteringly gorgeous necessarily, especially with the genre novel I'm currently working, but something that resembles what I might pick up in a bookstore, and with most of the details decided and the decisions made so that everything up to the most current page matches in detail.  Being on track will allow me to do that.

Keeping on track has also kept me from blogging very much, and there's been a lot of fun little things going on.

I got to explore Astoria in Queens for a weekend get-away as a friend of mine was out of town and let me crash at her place to have a change of environment and stir up some creativity.  I would now, at this point to sing the praises of The Astoria Bookshop.  It's a cozy little bookstore so beautifully designed and welcoming.  And I know the big shops can not be beaten when it comes to vast selection, however there is something to say for a shop that has a really wonderful selection in what is there, and allows you to actually notice some of the great things there.  I spent at least an hour there, and while I didn't buy any books as I currently have a stack of books waiting for me, and I couldn't justify spending more money on a book.  I did get a candle.  Especially when I'm writing I like to light a candle specifically saved for that time.  It's not a ritual, per say, but it does feel like I'm saying to myself and the world at large, that it's writing time.

In fact, at some point I would like to live in Astoria.  It's a little closer to Mid-Town than my current location, and it's got so many lovely little shops within quick walking distance, like Gossip Coffee, which has some pretty delicious donuts.  I tried the chocolate stout and the pumpkin spice latte, both of which were delicious.

I also went on another audition, and it was a pretty big win simply to go, because I've been going through the notices as of late and thinking of a reason for each post as to why I might not be perfect for the show, and therefor shouldn't go out for it.  But on Monday I told that side of myself to kindly shit it's pie hole.  I decided I'm going to go through the postings and if it seems even possibly right for me, I would go and give it a shot.  Now, I spoke to a friend of mine about this later who was worried about wasting the auditions time---  let me clarify.  I'm not saying if the part calls for a 25 year old romantic lead of Italian heritage, and that is not your age or your "type" that you should go out for it.  Yes- it's a waste of time.  But there are so many other parts out there that could work, and yet...they may not seem like the part you would immediately go in and rock.  To that voice saying don't go, I respectively again say "shut your pie hole".  You may go and you may not be right for it.  But if you go in there and give an amazing audition, they will take notice for next time.  They will.

In short, I am working hard on saying "yes" to opportunities and ignoring the tiny little "no" that often pipes up to have its say.

NaNoWriMo

It is day two of National Novel Writing Month, an annual event in November that started several years back and which I had often thought of participating in.  For one reason or another, though (not having a significant idea, being extremely busy in the month of November, getting the inspiration in February, being plain chicken) I had not yet done so.  Until Now!!

There are two kinds of participants in "Nanowrimo".

1.  The pantser.  This is the writer who decides to let inspiration hit them day one, write the quota of 1500 words each day that will get them to 50,000 words by the end of the month.  This approach has always seemed a little too "harum scarum" for me, and I've never really been tempted to trod that road.  Maybe after this month I will try this less organized route.

2.  The planner.  This person gives great thought to their plot, characters, and generally maps out what will happen in the novel more or less, so when November comes around it's almost a matter of connecting the dots.

I'm more or less doing the route of the planner, but I'm leaving some room for inspiration to strike.

Beginning in late September I became inspired by an idea I've been kicking around in one form or another for over ten years.  The character ideas, the perspective, the voice, the plot twists and the way to play with and twist common tropes of the genre--- they just started flowing.  So I took that month to spill all of those ideas, those "what ifs" onto the page.  Mostly I said "Suppose..."  and "What if..." and "Maybe...".  Next I went ahead and narrowed down some of those ideas, took some out, made some plot decisions and answered some of those "what ifs".  I made a complete list of characters, jotted some notes about them, when I thought I had too many to focus on I took a couple and combined them, as they essentially served the same purpose.  Then I made an outline of the first five chapters.  From there???  Well, I have a planned ending, and I have a general idea, but everything else is going to take a little trust and faith, and "listening to what the characters want".  Authors always say they can't make their characters do anything.  They have to listen to them.  So...I'm staying open to that.  Truthfully it's always seemed a little too precious for me, but I'm going to take their advice.

P.L. Travers always said the Mary Poppins books wrote themselves, and of course Jack Kerouac legendarily pounded out his masterpiece in three weeks, so it may be a smooth and easy road...somehow I'm leery.

I know I'll struggle and have doubts.  They seem almost to be necessary to the process somehow.  And if not necessary, at least, you can't create anything without those assholes showing up to the party, but I am determined to soldier on, in spite of what they say.  And if they seem to be making a little sense, like maybe this should happen instead of that?  I'll consider listening.  But it's such a slippery slope.  Letting fear motivate you toward excellence, and keeping it from derailing you.  Is it possible?

Yesterday I completed 2000 words, and tonight I have two and a half hours to write today's 1000-1500 in order to stay on track.

For those of you who are thinking about leaping into this, it is NOT TOO LATE!  You can go to the website linked above and register as an official participant, listen to pep talks, get guidance and advice, track your word count... it should be a lot of fun.  Really!! (SFX: manic laughter)

Mister Roger's: Television's Gift

When I was a child, like most kids in America in the late seventies, I watched Mister Rogers' Neighborhood religiously.   Not only was he a calm and gentle presence, unapologetically tender and sentimental, calming and supportive; he also chose to focus on things and people that mattered.  He showed us how the things we used got made, taught us to pay attention to the world and the good people around us, and to appreciate the things about us that we might not always wrap our arms around.  He, alongside the muppets and my daily dosage of mid-century sitcoms, was a major television influences.  He helped shape how I came to see the world and gave me a foundation to cope when things turn to shit in this world.

It feels strange to put all of that on television's metaphorical shoulders, but it's true.  We were kids of the tv generation.  And it's not that I didn't go outside, or that I had absentee parent's.  But teacher's, family members, daycare teachers felt safe putting us in front of the television, often at our pleading.  And so, almost as much as the people around us, television makes us.

And so I'm grateful that Mister Rogers was such a big presence in my life as a young kid.  His message that differences are wonderful, and that everyone is worthy of love and is special still hold true.  Unfortunately, I don't think it's quite as popular a message as it used to be.  Luckily, these shows were here for us then, and Sesame Street is still around continuing that message of acceptance and self worth.

This clip below illustrates how important and influential Mister Rogers was and continues to be, as long as there are those around who take his words to heart.

My First Agent Auditions

Today I signed up for my first audition in the city.  I "bit the bullet" as they say.  And let me tell you, everything they say about getting there an hour and a half before your call time and waiting around in a line of masses of squirmy people?  It's all true.  I mean I'd heard it, and I kind of believed it.  But I couldn't quite get my head around the thought that so many people would turn up at eight in the morning to audition for one to two minutes before two agents.  Stupid, right?  Oh yes.

I arrived at the Equity offices for an 8:30 sign up at 8:10, and had quite a bit of difficulty finding the back of the line as it wound around every wall of the Equity lobby.  Most of these people were quiet and in themselves, but there were enough of them carrying on loud conversations for (what seemed to be) the benefit of everyone else in the room, and one person in particular was performing a very loud performance piece about casting directors and how he never gets cast as Jewish because he doesn't have curly hair and a big nose and how racist that is.

I've always been really sensitive to my environment, so I buried my head in a book in order to keep other people's manic energies away.  I have enough neuroses of my own, thank you very much, and I don't need anyone else's.   Eventually the line started to move, and I worried I wasn't going to get a spot.  There were only fifty audition slots available, and after those were gone there were alternate spots up for grabs, but there's no guarantee that an alternate will get to perform.

I cursed myself for not realizing that the auditions weren't until 7PM, so for the early morning sign up I didn't have to print up and staple my resumes, didn't have to iron my clothes, didn't even have to shower.  I could have leapt out of bed humped it to the 2 Train and been pretty much guaranteed.  But, it's all part of the learning curve, and everybody has to start somewhere.  Right?

By the time I got to the front all the slots were gone.  So I signed up as the fifth alternate.  The monitor explained that it just meant I had to be there at the beginning of the audition and wait for someone to be late, or not show for their appointment, or slip in if the auditioners are running early.  She confided that the first alternates almost always get in as she works very hard to make it so, and so I will be there tonight, with my history of the creation of Wonder Woman, and hopefully I will get this experience under my belt.  On the 23rd I go in for my first musical audition, so I'll be able to check another box, and can be happy that I'm doing what I came out here to do.  Trying my damnedest.  I feel pretty good about my prospects, and though the odds of actually getting representation from this are low, it has caused me to find a new comedic monologue that I'm really pleased with, so the next time I have to go up with a monologue, I'll be that much more secure.

More later...