Make It or Break It

I'm very picky about my choice in shows worthy of following steadily. My schedule doesn't allow for a great deal of frivolity during the school year and I hesitate to invest more interest in following the path of someone else's life rather than living my own. Considering my tendency to lean towards suspenseful dramas and my chronic irritation with teenagers, it was not my expectation to be into a show like Make It or  Break It, if for no other reason than its being picked up by ABC Family, the station that's known for bringing such hits as The Secret Life of the American Teenager and Greek. From what I understand of ABC Family, it's the station that Disney Channel lovers go to when they realize that they might be getting too old for Hannah Montana, but would rather not seek out a show of substance. And yet I found myself, more often than I would imagine, stationed in front of a television at nine (eight central) on Monday evenings, waiting to see what fate had befallen the Rock Girls.
 Something about my affection for gymnastics and my boredom on the day that happened to be the series premier left me sitting in front of the television watching Stick It! the movie that was supposed to get us excited about this hip new show. The movie wasn't excruciating if I just ignored the crap that happened in between the gymnastics, so I figured the couch could bear my weight for another hour while I gave ABC Family's latest attempt at originality a fair shot.
The premise of the story is not incredibly remarkable. Rather than the typical cluster of lockers and classrooms, and elite gym is the major background for the ensuing drama among a tiny drove of teenaged girls and their parents. You have Lauren, the catty blonde who always gets her way from Daddy, Kaylie, the sweet popular girl who allows distractions to interfere with her drive, and Payson, the ultrafocused overachiever who won't let anything stop her. The course of their lives is altered minutely but significantly by the arrival of a shabby, unpolished scholarship recipient with a strong sob story and amazing potential: Emily Kmetko.  I sat, I watched, I thought, and by the time ten o'clock rolled around, I wanted more. I wanted to see what happened next. I will give the writers kudos for coming up with a very intriguing end to the pilot. It was curiosity about where they would be able to take it from there, more than anything else, that led me to tune in again. In addition to it being about gymnasts, it surprised me and I wondered how long they would be able to keep surprising me.
For seven weeks they held my attention. Seven weeks and I came to care about what would happen next, not just out of literary curiosity, but out of concern for the lives of these fictional characters. Seven weeks and I kept coming back; watching faithfully nearly every Monday night. In those seven weeks, I became familiar with the characters, had chosen favorites, and was able to make predictions about what should happen and what likely would happen. In seven weeks, I decided to make this one of "my shows". It wasn't quite as popular as most stupid ABCFamily shows and went on hiatus last summer rather than being picked up for another season. I was angry, more for the caliber of shows that the network held onto in comparison, and I was ready to mourn my one and only young girl's drama.
Now, the continuous whining on teens and tweens seems to have finally paid off as the show has been picked up for a third season just in time to get the Rock girls to the 2012 Olympics. I was disappointed with the way that they ended their last season, even though I knew a good deal of it was because they thought it would be the very end, but I look forward to the writers' attempt to pull themselves out of the hole that they dug. It will be nice to have those kids to root for again.

Call It Providence

I'm sleepy. I've been sleepy for the past five weeks and am still behind. I struck for Xanadu on Sunday and on Monday evening, I was on my way to Quincy to sell my soul to another director for another six weeks, this time with a half-hour commute and the challenge of Sondheim. I did okay, nothing spectacular, but enough to get a callback, and that's really all you can hope for in an audition, right? Callbacks come, and I still do okay, and when the time comes to make the first cuts, I'm dismissed. Now I'm sad.

I have recently accepted the fact that I will forever be in an abusive relationship with musical theatre. It tears me up, it puts me down, it throws me to the side, but still, all I want is for it to embrace me. All it takes is a little implication that my love isn't worthless and I'm back at it again. The rehearsal process for Xanadu was hell for me, but when I was walking home on Sunday night, all I wanted was to go back to that theatre. I couldn't wait to have more songs to sing, more moves to learn, more moments to create. I shouldn't have auditioned for Into the Woods. I had already acknowledged that it would be stupid to do two musicals in one semester with no real break in between, that I would probably be banging my head against the wall in just a couple of weeks if I ended up going through with it, but I had to go. I had to reach out for another chance to be a part of the magic. Now the magic has faded and I don't have any more, and I'm having the hardest time convincing myself that it's okay.

A smarter person wouldn't be sad. If I were smart, I'd remember that I'm taking 16 hours and behind in most of my classes with finals looming not too far ahead. I'd realize that this free time means a chance to actually comprehend what's going on in French, instead of just arranging letters the way I think they're supposed to go. I would remind myself that the deadline to submit for SETC is only a month away, FTC only a week and a half away, and mock trial tryouts less than a week. A less selfish person wouldn't be sad. A less selfish person would consider the job she has promised to be available for after leaving the crew hanging during homecoming week and the organization she's supposed to be helping to move forward. A more sensible person would use this knowledge to plan her next few weeks knowing that she'll have a good deal more free time and look forward to the opportunity to finally go to the dance classes she paid for. A more mature Akia would recognize that there are numerous factors that go into casting that don't reflect talent or skill and can't be helped. I am none of those things.

I am a stupid, selfish, childish girl (not unlike Little Red Riding Hood) who cannot see any of the positive things that will come from my not being caught up in this show. Nor can I recall any of the positive feedback I've gotten from members of the production team in the past year. I cannot bring myself to acknowledge what a compliment it is to be called back for such a demanding show or how supportive the people who knew me at auditions were when I had to perform. All I can see is how badly I want to do this show. All I can feel is how hurt I am that I was rejected and how disappointed I am that I wasn't deemed worthy to take the journey into the woods.