. It's frustrating to find that, despite my having what I believe to be justifiable reasons for thinking the way I do, there are people unwilling to allow that my perspective may be viable. Sometimes I don't feel good. Telling me I don't have a good reason to feel that way isn't going to make me feel any better. Expressing how I feel without being shot down does. So here goes.
I recently recieved an invite via facebook to attend the upcoming production of Into the Woods, the same production that I had been so looking forward to being a part of and was not able to because...well, because they didn't choose me. It really just boils down to that. It wasn't that I didn't have the time or couldn't get there or had any conflicts with the production schedule. Those might have been obstacles, but not deal breakers. The only thing that ultimately kept me from being in the show was that the production team decided not to put me in the show. I accept this. I acknowledge this and understand that to be the nature of the beast with whom I've fallen in love...None of that makes it any less hurtful though.
The fact is, there's no composer who identifies whatever aspect of the human experience he deigns to comment on through his lyrics the way that Stephen Sondheim does. (In my perfect universe, he's my grandpa and I call him Papa) Among his works (that I know so far), there's no show that resonates with me as strongly as Into the Woods and, though I know this is only one show and one company and one cast with a specific balance, I can't ignore the implication that this is not a show in which I would be invited to take part. I was first taught about casting that "there are two reasons you don't get cast in a role: you're not good enough or you don't fit the requirements for the role you're trying for". Let's say, to protect my ego, that I wasn't looked over because I wasn't good enough. Do I not "fit" the requirements for a part in this show? Could I not conceivably play a petulant child who placed too much trust in strangers? Do I not sound like I would be in a position to sing "I Know Things Now"? Am I too old? Too young? Too serious? Not to be taken seriously? Is there something about me entirely beyond my control that kept me from being deemed worthy of this journey? The possibility that I wasn't looked over based on the notion that I wasn't good enough, it turns out, isn't good enough to appease me.
Monday, February 20, 2012
No more Kardashians!
So there's this huge new grassroots campaign to out the Kardashian "empire" from the E! network. According to some chick in Colorado who has seen three episodes, the show promotes vulgarity, sexual promiscuity, vanity and...other bad things. She says that the girls (let's call the unit KKK) portray an unrealistic image which is a negative image for impressionable young girls and should be taken off the air. She says that the public have the right to better quality programming. I say...really?
If I took this woman at her word, I wouldn't be surprised to find that young children had no choice but to watch Keeping Up With the Kardashians (and all its offspring), smell like Unbreakable (Khloe's perfume), wear their clothes and jewelry, and most importantly, care about these girls. All of these things are demonstrably untrue. Prior to the inclusion of the Kardashian Kollection on HLN, the barrage of K-themed shows was limited to E!, a network that made Hugh Heffner's string of concubines into household names and considers the tragedy of Jon Ben`et Ramsey a Hollywood Story. The only original shows that this network comes up with are unscripted, shallow, and usually uncreative. Even if this lady's charges against the Kardashian Klan are true, I could not imagine a more appropriate home for the family's escapades than E!. In any case, their being limited to one (occasionally two) channels ensures that the lives of these vapid, ignorant little princesses can be blocked out with a click of the remote. It would be harder to take back a remote from a couchmate than to press the button that will get rid of them. As for her protests that the Kardashians appear too often in magazines and now in stores to simply ignore, their frequent appearances on covers is only a reflection of their popularity and their new clothing line is no more an imposition to the masses than Abercrombie and Fitch is (though their ads make it difficult to remember that they're selling clothes). The truth is, KKK are only as important as we make them and this outcry for censorship sounds too much like a cry for help.
We had a client come into the Writing Center today who took up the majority of a blank page airing her grievances against the center, the staff, and our policies. So vehement were her complaints that anyone reading them would have thought that this was the last straw and we would never see her again. Alas, that person would be wrong. We know that she will come again because she already decided that she could not find any value in the writing center. A few days back, she went so far as to have herself deleted from the system, so final was her resolve to never again utilize the resources the center made available to her. I wondered when I heard this why it was so important for her to be deleted from the system. Our one newsletter had already been sent out, nor do we send out mass emails except to say when we'll be closed on special occasions. The only way her inclusion into the writing center's system would have affected her would be if she chose to make an appointment, which she did, only days later. The fact is, there was something about this place that drew her to come, the same way that there is something about the Kardashians that draws people to watch.
I am not ashamed to say that I have seen every Kardashian show, from the original one about the whole family to the spin-offs about taking various cities. I have picked a favorite, rooted against less favorites, and passed judgement on each of the family members at one time or another. I have done the same with the Kardashian family that I have with the cast of the Big Bang Theory and in both cases, it was my choice. I decided to watch these shows the same way that our patron decided to come back to the Center and these moms decided to have this station on. We have all been guilty of allowing the media to impact us at some time, but there does come a point when personal responsibility trumps all else. For some people, nothing wraps up a lazy Sunday like watching a group of relatively useless people worry about miniscule problems in their overprivileged lives. As unsettling as it is for you, it gives many reason to smile. You shouldn't try to take that away from us.
If I took this woman at her word, I wouldn't be surprised to find that young children had no choice but to watch Keeping Up With the Kardashians (and all its offspring), smell like Unbreakable (Khloe's perfume), wear their clothes and jewelry, and most importantly, care about these girls. All of these things are demonstrably untrue. Prior to the inclusion of the Kardashian Kollection on HLN, the barrage of K-themed shows was limited to E!, a network that made Hugh Heffner's string of concubines into household names and considers the tragedy of Jon Ben`et Ramsey a Hollywood Story. The only original shows that this network comes up with are unscripted, shallow, and usually uncreative. Even if this lady's charges against the Kardashian Klan are true, I could not imagine a more appropriate home for the family's escapades than E!. In any case, their being limited to one (occasionally two) channels ensures that the lives of these vapid, ignorant little princesses can be blocked out with a click of the remote. It would be harder to take back a remote from a couchmate than to press the button that will get rid of them. As for her protests that the Kardashians appear too often in magazines and now in stores to simply ignore, their frequent appearances on covers is only a reflection of their popularity and their new clothing line is no more an imposition to the masses than Abercrombie and Fitch is (though their ads make it difficult to remember that they're selling clothes). The truth is, KKK are only as important as we make them and this outcry for censorship sounds too much like a cry for help.
We had a client come into the Writing Center today who took up the majority of a blank page airing her grievances against the center, the staff, and our policies. So vehement were her complaints that anyone reading them would have thought that this was the last straw and we would never see her again. Alas, that person would be wrong. We know that she will come again because she already decided that she could not find any value in the writing center. A few days back, she went so far as to have herself deleted from the system, so final was her resolve to never again utilize the resources the center made available to her. I wondered when I heard this why it was so important for her to be deleted from the system. Our one newsletter had already been sent out, nor do we send out mass emails except to say when we'll be closed on special occasions. The only way her inclusion into the writing center's system would have affected her would be if she chose to make an appointment, which she did, only days later. The fact is, there was something about this place that drew her to come, the same way that there is something about the Kardashians that draws people to watch.
I am not ashamed to say that I have seen every Kardashian show, from the original one about the whole family to the spin-offs about taking various cities. I have picked a favorite, rooted against less favorites, and passed judgement on each of the family members at one time or another. I have done the same with the Kardashian family that I have with the cast of the Big Bang Theory and in both cases, it was my choice. I decided to watch these shows the same way that our patron decided to come back to the Center and these moms decided to have this station on. We have all been guilty of allowing the media to impact us at some time, but there does come a point when personal responsibility trumps all else. For some people, nothing wraps up a lazy Sunday like watching a group of relatively useless people worry about miniscule problems in their overprivileged lives. As unsettling as it is for you, it gives many reason to smile. You shouldn't try to take that away from us.
Without Emily
I was very excited to find after a year-long hiatus that Make It or Break It would be returning to television this spring. As disappointed as I was in the direction they had chosen to take the show in since one of the actors got pregnant, I held out hope that they would be able to turn things around somehow, given a second chance. Emily, because of her underdog status and determination to be strong on her own, is my favorite character and I was deeply hurt that the show's writers responded to the pregnancy of the actress playing her by, in turn, making her character pregnant. As upsetting as it was to see the one known to defy her critics' expectations fall into the most obvious stereotypical mistake of a stupid teenaged girl, I at least comforted myself with the opinion that, if she comes back from this failure, there's surely nothing Emily can't do. Fool that I am, I assured myself that there was no way they could just drop her. Fool that I am.
The actress who played Emily Kmetko has given birth to a beautiful boy, lost her baby weight, and returned to work. She will not, however, return to the Rock. She confirmed herself that she would not be returning to the show and every promotional shot for this season has been of the remaining trio. It's official. Emily is gone. We're back at the status quo.
I can't express enough my disappointment in the writers for taking this path. Although they had to deal with the absence of one gymnast for a significant time period somehow, making Emily get pregnant and run away was a complete cop-out. For one thing, it completely disregards the ever present reality that she is a gymnast and constantly at risk for serious injury. She could have fractured her spine doing the vault, had to be sent to special rehab center in the Himalayas, and been ready to train again by the time baby Hobbs popped out. It wouldn't be the most creative solution, but neither would it be so ridiculously shameful. Emily, a girl who never had a boyfriend before, was born to a teenaged mother and dreams of going to the Olympics, decides, pretty much out of the blue, that she'll give her love interest her virginity to hold him over for the next two years. Aside from the fact that it's a completely shallow take on what the network is trying to pass for true love, it completely contradicts Emily's assertion that she's spending her life trying not to become her mother. How does she think her mother got that way? Did she not realize sex was involved?
I was irritated, but difficult as it was, I bravely swallowed the pregnancy addition to the storyline and watched the season unwind without one of its principles because I knew they couldn't just throw her away. And yet they continued with the season giving her less than five minutes of attention in the episode following her departure and pulling in another key player to fill out the foursome. Although they tried to revamp the focus of the drama, one can hardly fail to notice that they've essentially tried to fool the viewers into thinking the show is simply going on in a reasonable direction. It's ridiculous to think that the show will thrive without Emily. Cat fights and boyfriend drama aside, she was the reason the show happened in the first place. For five years, Payon, Kaylie, and Lauren were best friends making up the top tier at the rock. They worked hard, they struggled in training, but none of their struggles affected their equilibrium until Emily came along. Emily broke the status quo. Emily changed the paths of their lives. Emily is the reason that they are where they are today, and to go back to being the three top Rock girls with every expectation on making a splash in the Olympics after all that is to pretend that Emily was never there at all, that the "1, 2, 3" that Lauren said was the way it always had been in the pilot episode really is the way that it should be to the end. That they not only succeeded without her at World Championships, but are now heading to the Olympics without so much as a glance back, is a complete disregard of the impact that Emily's presence made on their lives. Lauren was always a good gymnast, but she never would've pushed herself to get gold against her two best friends if she hadn't felt her position in the top tier challenged. Neither would Kaylie have been pushed to choose her gymnastics over everything else and deal with the fallout from her mother's affair if her defense of Emily at the qualifiers hadn't led her to jeopardize her relationship with her boyfriend. As determined as Payson was to win and beat her longtime rival, her deference and trust for her coach would have kept her from endangering her body in the weeks leading up to nationals were it not for having to prove to the coach that abandoned her that she was still a winner. Everything about where the girls stood at the end of Worlds was reflective of the impact that Emily had made on their lives, and yet the choice to exclude her from the climax of the season sends the message that she was never really a part of the team. All because she got knocked up.
Even though I was angry when I first found out that Emily was pregnant, I didn't see it as a career-ender even though the coach insisted in a discussion with Emily's mother over her condition that she couldn't return to gymnastics, that her body couldn't recover from a baby. After all, Payson had come back from a supposed career-ender to win medal at Worlds in less than a year after proclaiming that a gymnast has between 14 and 20 years old to accomplish anything. There has been among them from the start of the show the idea that they will only be able to survive one Olympic cycle before having to figure out what else they can do with their lives. Up until now, I have forgiven the writers the occasional liberties taken with reality, but I cannot reconcile their determination to build giants in the field of gymnastics with their determination to place such limits on them. While most gymnasts peak in their late teens, one need only look at the record of multiple-time medalist Oksana Chusovitina to see that age doesn't determine winability, nor does a major hormonal change. She's still winning medals in international events despite having a child and at least ten years on all of her competitors. Granted, her situation is not typical, but what about the sport is typical? The very nature of gymnastics dictates smashing through the glass ceiling of human potential, defying every dogma and transcending every obstacle that appears. If the people that competed adhered to the same restraints as regular folks, they'd never be able to throw themselves in the air or pull themselves over those bars. Herein lies the heart of my disappointment, my anger. Emily has had everything against her from the time she was conceived and still excelled beyond expectations for the simple fact that she wanted it and she fought for it. The show now tells us that she's stopped fighting. She can't fight anymore. Every step she's taken towards success has just been a means to the same end. It didn't matter how hard she fought, ABCFamily tells us. She wasn't strong enough. She didn't have the athlete father to push her. She didn't have the rich single parent to devote all his time to her. She didn't have the loving nuclear family to support her. She fell because she had nothing to stand on but her own two feet.
The show without Emily is about three girls who are very different, but very much the same. Their situations are far-fetched not because of what they do, but what happens around them. They all work hard with the guidance of the coach who was acquired for them by one of the parents. They all hit bumps in the road, but end up coming out on top with people who love them to see that they do. They all present a pretty, but distorted view of what it is to fight for your dreams. The show without Emily is not a drama. It's a fairytale. Fairytales are not to be believed.
The actress who played Emily Kmetko has given birth to a beautiful boy, lost her baby weight, and returned to work. She will not, however, return to the Rock. She confirmed herself that she would not be returning to the show and every promotional shot for this season has been of the remaining trio. It's official. Emily is gone. We're back at the status quo.
I can't express enough my disappointment in the writers for taking this path. Although they had to deal with the absence of one gymnast for a significant time period somehow, making Emily get pregnant and run away was a complete cop-out. For one thing, it completely disregards the ever present reality that she is a gymnast and constantly at risk for serious injury. She could have fractured her spine doing the vault, had to be sent to special rehab center in the Himalayas, and been ready to train again by the time baby Hobbs popped out. It wouldn't be the most creative solution, but neither would it be so ridiculously shameful. Emily, a girl who never had a boyfriend before, was born to a teenaged mother and dreams of going to the Olympics, decides, pretty much out of the blue, that she'll give her love interest her virginity to hold him over for the next two years. Aside from the fact that it's a completely shallow take on what the network is trying to pass for true love, it completely contradicts Emily's assertion that she's spending her life trying not to become her mother. How does she think her mother got that way? Did she not realize sex was involved?
I was irritated, but difficult as it was, I bravely swallowed the pregnancy addition to the storyline and watched the season unwind without one of its principles because I knew they couldn't just throw her away. And yet they continued with the season giving her less than five minutes of attention in the episode following her departure and pulling in another key player to fill out the foursome. Although they tried to revamp the focus of the drama, one can hardly fail to notice that they've essentially tried to fool the viewers into thinking the show is simply going on in a reasonable direction. It's ridiculous to think that the show will thrive without Emily. Cat fights and boyfriend drama aside, she was the reason the show happened in the first place. For five years, Payon, Kaylie, and Lauren were best friends making up the top tier at the rock. They worked hard, they struggled in training, but none of their struggles affected their equilibrium until Emily came along. Emily broke the status quo. Emily changed the paths of their lives. Emily is the reason that they are where they are today, and to go back to being the three top Rock girls with every expectation on making a splash in the Olympics after all that is to pretend that Emily was never there at all, that the "1, 2, 3" that Lauren said was the way it always had been in the pilot episode really is the way that it should be to the end. That they not only succeeded without her at World Championships, but are now heading to the Olympics without so much as a glance back, is a complete disregard of the impact that Emily's presence made on their lives. Lauren was always a good gymnast, but she never would've pushed herself to get gold against her two best friends if she hadn't felt her position in the top tier challenged. Neither would Kaylie have been pushed to choose her gymnastics over everything else and deal with the fallout from her mother's affair if her defense of Emily at the qualifiers hadn't led her to jeopardize her relationship with her boyfriend. As determined as Payson was to win and beat her longtime rival, her deference and trust for her coach would have kept her from endangering her body in the weeks leading up to nationals were it not for having to prove to the coach that abandoned her that she was still a winner. Everything about where the girls stood at the end of Worlds was reflective of the impact that Emily had made on their lives, and yet the choice to exclude her from the climax of the season sends the message that she was never really a part of the team. All because she got knocked up.
Even though I was angry when I first found out that Emily was pregnant, I didn't see it as a career-ender even though the coach insisted in a discussion with Emily's mother over her condition that she couldn't return to gymnastics, that her body couldn't recover from a baby. After all, Payson had come back from a supposed career-ender to win medal at Worlds in less than a year after proclaiming that a gymnast has between 14 and 20 years old to accomplish anything. There has been among them from the start of the show the idea that they will only be able to survive one Olympic cycle before having to figure out what else they can do with their lives. Up until now, I have forgiven the writers the occasional liberties taken with reality, but I cannot reconcile their determination to build giants in the field of gymnastics with their determination to place such limits on them. While most gymnasts peak in their late teens, one need only look at the record of multiple-time medalist Oksana Chusovitina to see that age doesn't determine winability, nor does a major hormonal change. She's still winning medals in international events despite having a child and at least ten years on all of her competitors. Granted, her situation is not typical, but what about the sport is typical? The very nature of gymnastics dictates smashing through the glass ceiling of human potential, defying every dogma and transcending every obstacle that appears. If the people that competed adhered to the same restraints as regular folks, they'd never be able to throw themselves in the air or pull themselves over those bars. Herein lies the heart of my disappointment, my anger. Emily has had everything against her from the time she was conceived and still excelled beyond expectations for the simple fact that she wanted it and she fought for it. The show now tells us that she's stopped fighting. She can't fight anymore. Every step she's taken towards success has just been a means to the same end. It didn't matter how hard she fought, ABCFamily tells us. She wasn't strong enough. She didn't have the athlete father to push her. She didn't have the rich single parent to devote all his time to her. She didn't have the loving nuclear family to support her. She fell because she had nothing to stand on but her own two feet.
The show without Emily is about three girls who are very different, but very much the same. Their situations are far-fetched not because of what they do, but what happens around them. They all work hard with the guidance of the coach who was acquired for them by one of the parents. They all hit bumps in the road, but end up coming out on top with people who love them to see that they do. They all present a pretty, but distorted view of what it is to fight for your dreams. The show without Emily is not a drama. It's a fairytale. Fairytales are not to be believed.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
I'm freaking out right now
School starts next week. That dreadful countdown between when I have all the potential that comes with having lots of time and having my time constantly absorbed by classes and the overwhelming extracurriculars that have me pulling my hair out near Thanksgiving. The countdown is by no means made less stressful by the necessity to attend to matters other than the ticking of the clock. It's almsot laughable to me that my fretting at the moment is in anticipation of what will happen when I "really" get busy.
I have a job. Significant things have changed as a result of my having a job. I'm eligible for food stamps, which may just be the determining factor in whether I graduate college shoulders deep in debt. I get a paycheck, which will eventually allow me to spare cash for frivolous expenses (like Zaxby's!) during the school year once my financial aid kicks in. I have consistently had goals and responsibilities set throughout this summer in addition to the arbitrary ones I set for myself, for which I'm never held accountable. I am blessed enough to have an occupation on campus which I can reach in under ten minutes by bus and which is not only financially sound, but mentally rewarding. These are all good things. These are the reasons I love my job. These are the matters of which I've had to constantly remind myself over the past week as my "break" before classes start has come to be the source of mounting anxiety. It took four separate painstaking attempts to make my work schedule feasible around my class schedule and I'm still waiting with baited breath to find out whether it will be approved. After all of my efforts, the best I could manage was a work week saturated from the morning (as early as 8:30) to the evening (as late as 6:30) with either work or classes.
I was, at least, fortunate enough to have my class schedule finalized before classes actually started, a first in my college career. (It's a testament to my own insanity that I was first dissatisfied when I saw that my schedule would only allow me to take 16 of the maximum 18 credit hours per semester.) As grateful as I am for those classes, I'm well aware of how gruelling they are going to be. I wouldn't mind this rigor (on the contrary, I'd embrace it) if it weren't for the fact that I'm not going to be finished when I finish my work day or my school day. There will still be homework. There will still be rehearsal. There will still be LSATs to practice for and papers to write, trips to plan and applications to fill out. At present, there's not a break in sight. The only break that I'm seriously looking for is between now and Monday. It would eb really great if I had a day with no pressure, no auditions, no appointments, no deadlines. That's not going to happen. Between generals starting up this weekend and the arrival of this new resident, it seems my interim will be break free. Therefore, I am freaking out.
I have a job. Significant things have changed as a result of my having a job. I'm eligible for food stamps, which may just be the determining factor in whether I graduate college shoulders deep in debt. I get a paycheck, which will eventually allow me to spare cash for frivolous expenses (like Zaxby's!) during the school year once my financial aid kicks in. I have consistently had goals and responsibilities set throughout this summer in addition to the arbitrary ones I set for myself, for which I'm never held accountable. I am blessed enough to have an occupation on campus which I can reach in under ten minutes by bus and which is not only financially sound, but mentally rewarding. These are all good things. These are the reasons I love my job. These are the matters of which I've had to constantly remind myself over the past week as my "break" before classes start has come to be the source of mounting anxiety. It took four separate painstaking attempts to make my work schedule feasible around my class schedule and I'm still waiting with baited breath to find out whether it will be approved. After all of my efforts, the best I could manage was a work week saturated from the morning (as early as 8:30) to the evening (as late as 6:30) with either work or classes.
I was, at least, fortunate enough to have my class schedule finalized before classes actually started, a first in my college career. (It's a testament to my own insanity that I was first dissatisfied when I saw that my schedule would only allow me to take 16 of the maximum 18 credit hours per semester.) As grateful as I am for those classes, I'm well aware of how gruelling they are going to be. I wouldn't mind this rigor (on the contrary, I'd embrace it) if it weren't for the fact that I'm not going to be finished when I finish my work day or my school day. There will still be homework. There will still be rehearsal. There will still be LSATs to practice for and papers to write, trips to plan and applications to fill out. At present, there's not a break in sight. The only break that I'm seriously looking for is between now and Monday. It would eb really great if I had a day with no pressure, no auditions, no appointments, no deadlines. That's not going to happen. Between generals starting up this weekend and the arrival of this new resident, it seems my interim will be break free. Therefore, I am freaking out.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Progress Report
It's halfway through the summer of ending status quo and I find I can't hold off any longer on making a status check. Here I am in the second decade of my life, and what have I got to show for it? It's a question I'm always afraid to ask myself, but it comes to a point that it cannot be helped. If ever I'm to reach that moment of self-actualization where I can wake up and say that I'm happy, that I don't want anything more, I must first ask myself what I want and if I have it.
I gave myself a lofty list of things to accomplish this summer at the close of spring semester. Rather than "goals", I called it my "summer agenda" hoping my new diction would turn these items into things I had no choice but to accomplish. Going down the list...my agenda has not even come close to being fulfilled. The things I was determined to do when the summer started, things I felt I had to do when I wrote them down, lest I be an absolute failure, are largely undone and the ticking of the clock is getting more and more audible. I am aware that the summer is winding down and it makes me nervous.
I'm nervous, but I'm not panicking. I have two fantastic things to show for my summer: my job and my show. I started work the same day that we had our first rehearsal for Sweet Charity, so that Monday had a very "first day of the rest of your life" air about it (at least for me). That was weeks ago and while, on one hand, it seems like forever because this routine has grown so familiar to me, it feels on the other hand like I'm just getting started. There's so much more I'll get out of both.
I love my job. I really do. I look forward to going to work every morning, seeing my colleagues and being useful to students. I'm glad when I walk out the door that I got out of bed that day. I feel proud to finally be earning money to help support myself without my means of income being determined by need. What I get at the Writing Center is mine and no one is going to start laying claim to it come 2015. And my having this job, this notch under my belt, means I won't be totally groundless when I ask people to hire me while I try to do my actor kid thing, which I can't neglect no matter what. I'm extremely glad that I took the leap of faith to do Sweet Charity in Quincy. My average is up to two shows a school year, I've branched out into another medium and I've gotten to meet new people, which is never a bad thing. I'm still not a good dancer, but there is enough physical activity in the show (be it dancing or being enthusiastically stoned) that I can call myself "active". Hopefully, I'll develop some endurance by the time the run is over. Between Sweet Charity and the Writing Center, I've come up with a pretty decent summer. Twenty hours at work and eighteen hours at rehearsal isn't a bad way to sum up a week. Still, as happy as I am with those two aspects of my life, I can't deny how much room for improvement there is.
I've sold one set of CUTCO and been to one Vector meeting. I told myself that I wouldn't go to a paycheck meeting until I'd sold something, but even after I did, I had no desire to go there and didn't put much effort into trying to find a ride. I didn't see much point in fighting for it after I got a job that pays regular-like, but the half-hearted attempts at making contacts has lately faded into nothing. I have yet to work through one solo. I might cheat and count all of the songs I've learned for Sweet Charity, but that would hardly improve my repertoire, which was the point. Because I've spent so much time in rehearsal, I haven't made it to dance class much since I got cast. It's not a bad excuse. We do have boot camps and dance rehearsals, but the things I need to work on often get lost in the counts. I have read a few plays, heard some good music, learned a few songs and had a few occasions to find myself outside of my dwelling without any particular purpose. If I were fifteen years old, with all the limitations of my teenaged years, if I were seventeen, with the delicate fence between child and adult to straddle, if I were eighteen, with four years of college to look forward to and a clean slate to work with...I'd be quite satisfied with myself at this point. As it is, I'm twenty. I'm not a kid and I'm not a teenager and I've passed all of those phases already. At this juncture, it isn't quite enough for me. I will justify not learning how to drive with the convenient excuse that I have not had a teacher. If that goal remains unfulfilled when the end of August comes around so be it. But how can I account for my dozen unfinished blog posts or my seeming inability to choose a research topic? Those things, I know, can be remedied in the coming days. And so they will. If someone was to ask me at this point how my summer is going, I could sincerely say, "Not bad." I am enjoying myself for the most part and it is a vast improvement compared to summers of old. As I say when I'm looking over drafts, we're off to a very good start (me myself and I). Now it's time to see what good a little tweaking will do.
I gave myself a lofty list of things to accomplish this summer at the close of spring semester. Rather than "goals", I called it my "summer agenda" hoping my new diction would turn these items into things I had no choice but to accomplish. Going down the list...my agenda has not even come close to being fulfilled. The things I was determined to do when the summer started, things I felt I had to do when I wrote them down, lest I be an absolute failure, are largely undone and the ticking of the clock is getting more and more audible. I am aware that the summer is winding down and it makes me nervous.
I'm nervous, but I'm not panicking. I have two fantastic things to show for my summer: my job and my show. I started work the same day that we had our first rehearsal for Sweet Charity, so that Monday had a very "first day of the rest of your life" air about it (at least for me). That was weeks ago and while, on one hand, it seems like forever because this routine has grown so familiar to me, it feels on the other hand like I'm just getting started. There's so much more I'll get out of both.
I love my job. I really do. I look forward to going to work every morning, seeing my colleagues and being useful to students. I'm glad when I walk out the door that I got out of bed that day. I feel proud to finally be earning money to help support myself without my means of income being determined by need. What I get at the Writing Center is mine and no one is going to start laying claim to it come 2015. And my having this job, this notch under my belt, means I won't be totally groundless when I ask people to hire me while I try to do my actor kid thing, which I can't neglect no matter what. I'm extremely glad that I took the leap of faith to do Sweet Charity in Quincy. My average is up to two shows a school year, I've branched out into another medium and I've gotten to meet new people, which is never a bad thing. I'm still not a good dancer, but there is enough physical activity in the show (be it dancing or being enthusiastically stoned) that I can call myself "active". Hopefully, I'll develop some endurance by the time the run is over. Between Sweet Charity and the Writing Center, I've come up with a pretty decent summer. Twenty hours at work and eighteen hours at rehearsal isn't a bad way to sum up a week. Still, as happy as I am with those two aspects of my life, I can't deny how much room for improvement there is.
I've sold one set of CUTCO and been to one Vector meeting. I told myself that I wouldn't go to a paycheck meeting until I'd sold something, but even after I did, I had no desire to go there and didn't put much effort into trying to find a ride. I didn't see much point in fighting for it after I got a job that pays regular-like, but the half-hearted attempts at making contacts has lately faded into nothing. I have yet to work through one solo. I might cheat and count all of the songs I've learned for Sweet Charity, but that would hardly improve my repertoire, which was the point. Because I've spent so much time in rehearsal, I haven't made it to dance class much since I got cast. It's not a bad excuse. We do have boot camps and dance rehearsals, but the things I need to work on often get lost in the counts. I have read a few plays, heard some good music, learned a few songs and had a few occasions to find myself outside of my dwelling without any particular purpose. If I were fifteen years old, with all the limitations of my teenaged years, if I were seventeen, with the delicate fence between child and adult to straddle, if I were eighteen, with four years of college to look forward to and a clean slate to work with...I'd be quite satisfied with myself at this point. As it is, I'm twenty. I'm not a kid and I'm not a teenager and I've passed all of those phases already. At this juncture, it isn't quite enough for me. I will justify not learning how to drive with the convenient excuse that I have not had a teacher. If that goal remains unfulfilled when the end of August comes around so be it. But how can I account for my dozen unfinished blog posts or my seeming inability to choose a research topic? Those things, I know, can be remedied in the coming days. And so they will. If someone was to ask me at this point how my summer is going, I could sincerely say, "Not bad." I am enjoying myself for the most part and it is a vast improvement compared to summers of old. As I say when I'm looking over drafts, we're off to a very good start (me myself and I). Now it's time to see what good a little tweaking will do.
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