Alternate title: Mandy and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
For starters, I got no sleep last night. Didn't get back from Rocky til after 2, then got up at 7:30, and I have a cold so it took forever to fall asleep. The reason I got up at 7:30 was to meet up with Michael and carpool to Burnsville for Parkway Playhouse auditions.
Worst. Auditions. Ever.
Don't get me wrong - I felt like my actual audition was great. But the whole process was insanely disorganized, and frustrating to the point that I've decided even if I AM offered a role, I won't accept it. Nothing against Parkway Playhouse in general, because I know a lot of great people who work/have worked for them. And I've heard that in past years, auditions have not been the horrible process they were today. However, seeing as how today is the only experience I have with them...I was thoroughly unimpressed, and I intend to wait at least until next year to try to get involved out there.
Basically, what got me really angry was the complete and utter lack of order. We were numbered as we came in...and those numbers meant absolutely nothing. They didn't take people in order of arrival. At 3:00, there were people who had just been SITTING AROUND since 10:00 and hadn't even gotten to cold read. Meanwhile, there were people who didn't show up until 1:30 who were completely finished by 3:00. I got there at 10:00 and was done by 12:30...but Scott and about four other guys, who also got there at 10:00, was still waiting around. Finally, Scott decided he wasn't even interested in auditioning anymore after seeing the lack of courtesy and professionalism displayed by those running the auditions. I know it was frustrating for the directors, too; they didn't seem to have too much say in the order of things.
It's not that hard, people. Audition actors in the order they show up. If you want to do different groups of guys and girls, that's fine, but MAKE TWO SEPARATE LISTS so you don't have twenty girls finished and the first five guys still sitting around. Let people get their WHOLE audition over with in an orderly fashion instead of expecting them to wait five hours between steps. And if you absolutely have to have someone come back and read for a different part for you, get it done QUICKLY instead of asking them to wait another two hours to read a page of dialogue.
So, by the time we finally got back to Asheville (around 5), I was already just wishing I could start the whole day over and spend it hanging out with Scott instead of completely wasting our time in the middle of Burnsville. Of course, that wasn't the end of the day. When trying to leave for the Alice Underground show, I spent ten minutes looking for my phone. I finally found it, which was good. Then I immediately realized I could not find my license. Finally found it in my floorboard when I got to the theatre; it had fallen out when my purse dumped over at some point.
(After the show was the cast party, which was basically the only really good part of the day. It was a blast, but I wanna get all the bad stuff out of the way first.)
So, Scott took me back to my car after the cast party. I couldn't find my keys anywhere. Finally, I looked inside my car window...to see the keys in the ignition. The only other set is in my mother's purse. Scott brought me home and dropped me off...and then I realized that I should have just gotten him to bring me and get the other set of keys so I could go back and get the car instead of leaving it overnight. It's not exactly parked in the nicest neighborhood; someone I know had her purse stolen out of her car in the same parking lot, and now I'm worried about the possibility of someone breaking the window and taking the car.
And the time changed tonight, so after all that mess, I'm an hour behind on sleep, and I CAN'T sleep anyway because I'm stressed.
The icing on the cake? I came home to find my official rejection letter from Little Shop auditions; I already knew I wasn't cast, but it's such a nice little stab in the back after a long day to find a "Thanks, but no thanks" waiting for you.
The only thing that makes this day at all redeemable was watching (and rewatching) Carol Channing sing a song about jam in a wonderfully horribly campy 1980's TV version of Alice in Wonderland. I laughed til I cried and couldn't sit up straight.
Honestly, that almost makes the whole day worth it.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Slutty vs. Sloppy
The world is buried in snow yet again.
Today, after seeing pictures of a beautiful teenage girl in a beautiful dress, I had the thought, "Beauty is wasted on the young!". And then I started really analyzing WHY I had that particular thought. So now you, my few lucky readers, get to sit through my thought process.
My gut reaction for saying beauty is wasted on the young is two-fold. First of all, most girls don't realize just how beautiful they are in high school until about 5-10 years later. Suddenly, they look back at their old photos and think, "Holy crap, I was gorgeous! Why did I waste so much time moping about because I thought I was too fat/too thin/too short/too tall/too ugly?" Second of all...beautiful young girls don't know what to DO with their beauty. Don't get me wrong, I am in no way trying to insinuate that teenagers should dress up to show off all their assets in a provocative way...which, oddly enough, is the first idea that seems to spring to mind when someone mentions "showing off assets". I just think it's a shame that girls don't seem to know or have much interest in dressing for their body type. They inevitably dress in far too revealing clothes that don't actually flatter their figures, no matter what they might think...or they dress in baggy jeans and T-shirts that ALSO don't flatter them.
I'm trying to understand this phenomenon. To break it down in a really basic form...it seems that girls dress like sluts because they want attention, and girls dress in baggy clothes because they don't want attention. What's sad is, both types end up receiving negative attention. If girls were taught to dress in a manner appropriate for their age and body type...I'm no expert, but I imagine it would do wonders for teenage self-esteem.
I realized pretty quickly after I had my first thought (beauty is wasted on the young) that there's a deeper problem. And, while I know the media is an easy target to pin society's problems on...I really believe the media is at least partly at fault here. It's not the only factor by any means. Even without media, teenage body issues would still exist. But fashion is affected by the media...and subsequently, the way teenage girls dress is affected. The ones who end up looking like sluts dress that way because they see adult women in magazines doing so. The women they see are touted as being the sexiest women in the world, so of course girls are going to try to emulate that. Magazines don't tell them, "Oh, by the way, those clothes the model is wearing? Yeah, they look good on her body type, but a very, very small percentage of real people look good in those clothes."
Some girls take the opposite route. They know they can never look like women they see in the media, so they cover their bodies up completely. They make themselves look sloppy, they hide in oversized jeans and boys t-shirts. Their posture slumps because they feel too tall, or because they're ashamed of their figures. They make fun of the girls who dress like sluts, mainly because they think slutty or sloppy are the only two options they have.
Wouldn't it be great if we started teaching teenagers how to dress for their body types? Instead of just showing them pictures of models in magazines and saying, "Here, this is in style. Go swipe your dad's Visa so you can look like this!", wouldn't it be better to teach them that one of the best ways to look fashionable and look good is to dress in a way that flatters them? I think so many girls could benefit from this. It should be a required topic in health class...and it should include all body types. Fat girls, thin girls, short girls, tall girls. Girls with big boobs, girls with big hips, girls who have pencil-thin waists but flabby arms.
It's true that beauty comes from the inside, but sometimes it's hard to see that beauty when you're wearing clothes three times too small that wouldn't even look good if they had them in your real size.
Today, after seeing pictures of a beautiful teenage girl in a beautiful dress, I had the thought, "Beauty is wasted on the young!". And then I started really analyzing WHY I had that particular thought. So now you, my few lucky readers, get to sit through my thought process.
My gut reaction for saying beauty is wasted on the young is two-fold. First of all, most girls don't realize just how beautiful they are in high school until about 5-10 years later. Suddenly, they look back at their old photos and think, "Holy crap, I was gorgeous! Why did I waste so much time moping about because I thought I was too fat/too thin/too short/too tall/too ugly?" Second of all...beautiful young girls don't know what to DO with their beauty. Don't get me wrong, I am in no way trying to insinuate that teenagers should dress up to show off all their assets in a provocative way...which, oddly enough, is the first idea that seems to spring to mind when someone mentions "showing off assets". I just think it's a shame that girls don't seem to know or have much interest in dressing for their body type. They inevitably dress in far too revealing clothes that don't actually flatter their figures, no matter what they might think...or they dress in baggy jeans and T-shirts that ALSO don't flatter them.
I'm trying to understand this phenomenon. To break it down in a really basic form...it seems that girls dress like sluts because they want attention, and girls dress in baggy clothes because they don't want attention. What's sad is, both types end up receiving negative attention. If girls were taught to dress in a manner appropriate for their age and body type...I'm no expert, but I imagine it would do wonders for teenage self-esteem.
I realized pretty quickly after I had my first thought (beauty is wasted on the young) that there's a deeper problem. And, while I know the media is an easy target to pin society's problems on...I really believe the media is at least partly at fault here. It's not the only factor by any means. Even without media, teenage body issues would still exist. But fashion is affected by the media...and subsequently, the way teenage girls dress is affected. The ones who end up looking like sluts dress that way because they see adult women in magazines doing so. The women they see are touted as being the sexiest women in the world, so of course girls are going to try to emulate that. Magazines don't tell them, "Oh, by the way, those clothes the model is wearing? Yeah, they look good on her body type, but a very, very small percentage of real people look good in those clothes."
Some girls take the opposite route. They know they can never look like women they see in the media, so they cover their bodies up completely. They make themselves look sloppy, they hide in oversized jeans and boys t-shirts. Their posture slumps because they feel too tall, or because they're ashamed of their figures. They make fun of the girls who dress like sluts, mainly because they think slutty or sloppy are the only two options they have.
Wouldn't it be great if we started teaching teenagers how to dress for their body types? Instead of just showing them pictures of models in magazines and saying, "Here, this is in style. Go swipe your dad's Visa so you can look like this!", wouldn't it be better to teach them that one of the best ways to look fashionable and look good is to dress in a way that flatters them? I think so many girls could benefit from this. It should be a required topic in health class...and it should include all body types. Fat girls, thin girls, short girls, tall girls. Girls with big boobs, girls with big hips, girls who have pencil-thin waists but flabby arms.
It's true that beauty comes from the inside, but sometimes it's hard to see that beauty when you're wearing clothes three times too small that wouldn't even look good if they had them in your real size.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Willy Wonka, Jr.
It feels far too much like a Friday for some reason, so I'm having trouble getting to sleep. And if the weather keeps up, I might not work tomorrow anyway...I actually sort of HOPE the weather keeps up. I'll be very upset if we had to cancel Willy Wonka and don't even get a snow day to show for it. I'm glad we at least got the school performance in this afternoon, but I WISH they had gone ahead and done the evening performance at 5 instead of trying to wait until 7. Apparently someone didn't want it changed to 5 and made a fuss, but all that did was get the whole thing postponed until (hopefully) Monday. Which is a real shame, since I know at least one kid who had a grandparent who drove in from a couple of states away just to see the show.
Still, I'm hopeful that we'll have a show to do Monday night...and I am so, so proud of these kids. I might have to sit backstage to help the tech crew get their cues for the next show, which will break my heart because I want to watch it again, but at least I got to see them do an amazing job at school this afternoon. They kept the story moving even with all the technical snafus, and I couldn't have asked for anything more.
Yesterday I told Scott that sometimes, I feel like Mary Poppins. I do a lot of contracted work, so I come in for a month or two or three, I put together a show or teach a camp or what have you...and then it's over, and I'm off to the next set of children. I get to stay with the same group of kids a little longer in my preschool classes, but none of them will be with me for more than a year because they'll outgrow the program, and they're so little, I don't even know if they'll remember me. It gets me down sometimes, because I always grow to love my kids. Especially my Wonkerers. At 5:15, I was just watching out the window in tears because I was so afraid my kids weren't going to get to have their second performance, and that I wasn't going to get to see any of them again when I didn't get a chance to give anyone a real goodbye. It really made me realize that I'm going to miss the hell out of these kids. I've seen them five days a week for months, and it's been such a positive experience for me...I can only hope that they've all had a positive experience, too.
I know it's all just part of being a teacher, and I know lots of teachers get attached to their students, especially in something like drama where you spend so much extra time creating a work of art with them. And I am glad that I get to work with so many different ages and ability levels doing contract work. But I do admit that sometimes, I envy some of my colleagues and friends who teach full-time without hopping from place to place. I imagine I wouldn't be so sad about this show ending if I didn't know that it'll probably be the last time I see any of these wonderful, talented kids. I just really hope that I've taught at least some of them something, because they've all taught me way more than I ever expected to learn in this process. I knew I was in for an awesome lesson in how to handle middle schoolers, but it's been so much more than that.
I think the most satisfying lesson actually happened today. I've teased the musical director about how she's the good cop and I'm the bad cop; we've worked incredibly well together, but I've always felt like I was being too tough on the cast. I didn't want to let them off the hook too much, though, because I know how kids can take advantage of a new person if given half the chance (I learned that lesson already and make it a point to start off strict). So I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I was still a little unsure of whether or not the cast actually liked me. I know, it's not important if the kids like you, what's really important is that they've learned something, but it's a really nice bonus when your students like you. I was seriously afraid I wouldn't make it to the afternoon show in time for the beginning today, so I wrote the cast a little note that Beth printed out for them to let them know just how proud I was and just how much I hoped I could get there in time. I wanted to let them know that I WOULD be there for at least part of the show, even if I was late, just in case any of them really were worried about the director being there.
I got my answer when I walked through the doors of the gym - they were onstage singing a warm-up song, and they all stopped singing and started screaming and cheering when they saw I had made it in time. I suddenly felt like I had accomplished something really good, and it wasn't the show. Honestly, the director can only do so much in making a show be good or bad, and the show today was good because the actors made it good. What I HAD accomplished was that I had earned the respect and affection of those wonderful kids. And then seeing them all give such terrific performances...I can only think of one other time off the top of my head that I've been that proud, and that was when I took a high school group to competition and a girl who had never acted before that show won a best actress award.
Okay, I'm starting to get wordy, and I'm basically just rambling on at this point. Let's see if getting all these thoughts out will help me sleep now!
Still, I'm hopeful that we'll have a show to do Monday night...and I am so, so proud of these kids. I might have to sit backstage to help the tech crew get their cues for the next show, which will break my heart because I want to watch it again, but at least I got to see them do an amazing job at school this afternoon. They kept the story moving even with all the technical snafus, and I couldn't have asked for anything more.
Yesterday I told Scott that sometimes, I feel like Mary Poppins. I do a lot of contracted work, so I come in for a month or two or three, I put together a show or teach a camp or what have you...and then it's over, and I'm off to the next set of children. I get to stay with the same group of kids a little longer in my preschool classes, but none of them will be with me for more than a year because they'll outgrow the program, and they're so little, I don't even know if they'll remember me. It gets me down sometimes, because I always grow to love my kids. Especially my Wonkerers. At 5:15, I was just watching out the window in tears because I was so afraid my kids weren't going to get to have their second performance, and that I wasn't going to get to see any of them again when I didn't get a chance to give anyone a real goodbye. It really made me realize that I'm going to miss the hell out of these kids. I've seen them five days a week for months, and it's been such a positive experience for me...I can only hope that they've all had a positive experience, too.
I know it's all just part of being a teacher, and I know lots of teachers get attached to their students, especially in something like drama where you spend so much extra time creating a work of art with them. And I am glad that I get to work with so many different ages and ability levels doing contract work. But I do admit that sometimes, I envy some of my colleagues and friends who teach full-time without hopping from place to place. I imagine I wouldn't be so sad about this show ending if I didn't know that it'll probably be the last time I see any of these wonderful, talented kids. I just really hope that I've taught at least some of them something, because they've all taught me way more than I ever expected to learn in this process. I knew I was in for an awesome lesson in how to handle middle schoolers, but it's been so much more than that.
I think the most satisfying lesson actually happened today. I've teased the musical director about how she's the good cop and I'm the bad cop; we've worked incredibly well together, but I've always felt like I was being too tough on the cast. I didn't want to let them off the hook too much, though, because I know how kids can take advantage of a new person if given half the chance (I learned that lesson already and make it a point to start off strict). So I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I was still a little unsure of whether or not the cast actually liked me. I know, it's not important if the kids like you, what's really important is that they've learned something, but it's a really nice bonus when your students like you. I was seriously afraid I wouldn't make it to the afternoon show in time for the beginning today, so I wrote the cast a little note that Beth printed out for them to let them know just how proud I was and just how much I hoped I could get there in time. I wanted to let them know that I WOULD be there for at least part of the show, even if I was late, just in case any of them really were worried about the director being there.
I got my answer when I walked through the doors of the gym - they were onstage singing a warm-up song, and they all stopped singing and started screaming and cheering when they saw I had made it in time. I suddenly felt like I had accomplished something really good, and it wasn't the show. Honestly, the director can only do so much in making a show be good or bad, and the show today was good because the actors made it good. What I HAD accomplished was that I had earned the respect and affection of those wonderful kids. And then seeing them all give such terrific performances...I can only think of one other time off the top of my head that I've been that proud, and that was when I took a high school group to competition and a girl who had never acted before that show won a best actress award.
Okay, I'm starting to get wordy, and I'm basically just rambling on at this point. Let's see if getting all these thoughts out will help me sleep now!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Life in Images*
Something kind of cool just happened, in a weird chain of events.
I was reading over news stories online, since that's pretty much the only way I get my news. There was some really sad stuff about Haiti, and some really uplifting stuff, including a section on CNN.com where people in Haiti were able to communicate to relatives that they are still alive, and relatives are able to use a search engine to find missing loved ones. For some reason, it made me think of a pen pal I had in 5th grade. She wasn't from Haiti...in fact, I actually can't remember exactly WHERE she was from. I know my very first pen pal was from Jamaica - a boy who never answered the letter I sent - but I was given a new one because the first one never replied. I THINK this girl lived in South Africa, and then after about a year of writing to each other, her family moved to New Zealand. We lost contact pretty soon after that...I think because I lost her address. Our letters had been getting less frequent anyway, so she probably assumed my lack of letters meant I'd just lost interest.
Anyway, I still remembered her name after all these years - Krushanta Naidoo. I think I might have tried to search for her back when the internet first became popular, but nothing at ALL turned up - apparently Krushanta Naidoo isn't that common a name. Who knew? But tonight when I searched, results did show up - and the very first one was a Facebook page. All the info was private, but the picture showed a smiling woman around my age posing with a handsome man. I'm not 100% sure that it's my old pen pal, but she seems to be the right age, she's African, and her face seems like it could be an older version of the 11-year-old girl I had a photograph of for years (I tried to find it, but at some point during a college cleaning I probably threw it out). I sent her a message - we'll wait and see if a) she remembers me and b) it's really the same person at all.
What really struck me, though, and what prompted me to write all this down, was our profile pictures. Like I said before, her profile picture (and the only picture I could view) was of her standing (or sitting) beside a nice looking man, a little taller than she is, looks like he's probably a significant other, and she's got her head on his shoulder. I clicked over to my profile...and realized that while Scott and I live in a different world on a different continent, my picture of us is almost the exact same pose.
And I realized that not only is it extremely interesting how common human experiences are represented by pictures in general, but how the pictures we choose to represent ourselves can often point to where we are in our lives.**
I notice that high school and some college kids in general tend to have vaguely "artistic" photos of themselves. Even kids I know who don't fall under any kind of "emo" label have profile pictures that I would feel safe calling emo.
Then there's the older college kids, who seem to follow a trend of making their profile picture either a) a group shot of them*** and their friends at a party b) a group shot of them and their friends on a big adventure or c) a shot of just them.
Then we move into the post-college crowd...at this point a lot of people I know are in serious, long-term relationships, and that, too, is reflected in their profile pictures. I am no exception. A few of the newlyweds have pictures of their wedding day.
Once we start getting past marriage, the next step is often a picture of the new house/apartment. Or, if that step is skipped, the next picture is of the new baby (or, increasingly, baby-on-the-way; ultrasound pics seem to be a new trend).
Oh, and my friends who don't have kids or SOs, or maybe just SOs but not kids, tend to have pictures of their cats.
Now, I don't have a lot of friends who are past the kid stage of their lives. Even my friends with older kids usually have some sort of picture of themselves and their kids as their profile image. However, I do find it interesting that out of the small number of people I know who are past children and into retirement, most of them have almost reverted back to the high school picture - a solitary shot, not really emo, but usually a quiet, simple sort of artistic.
Maybe I'm the only one who has observed these trends among my friends, but I do think it's quite interested to see how a social networking site can paint such a timeline of life events just by observing profile pictures.
*I would like to point out that I find this entire post little ironic, considering the title of this blog and my opinion of my own "image".
**I do realize that everyone does not fit these stereotypes. I'm just observing the trend.
***Please excuse my lack of grammar; I know it isn't proper to use "themselves" or "themself" the way I am here, but I get so sick of the whole "his or herself" thing.
I was reading over news stories online, since that's pretty much the only way I get my news. There was some really sad stuff about Haiti, and some really uplifting stuff, including a section on CNN.com where people in Haiti were able to communicate to relatives that they are still alive, and relatives are able to use a search engine to find missing loved ones. For some reason, it made me think of a pen pal I had in 5th grade. She wasn't from Haiti...in fact, I actually can't remember exactly WHERE she was from. I know my very first pen pal was from Jamaica - a boy who never answered the letter I sent - but I was given a new one because the first one never replied. I THINK this girl lived in South Africa, and then after about a year of writing to each other, her family moved to New Zealand. We lost contact pretty soon after that...I think because I lost her address. Our letters had been getting less frequent anyway, so she probably assumed my lack of letters meant I'd just lost interest.
Anyway, I still remembered her name after all these years - Krushanta Naidoo. I think I might have tried to search for her back when the internet first became popular, but nothing at ALL turned up - apparently Krushanta Naidoo isn't that common a name. Who knew? But tonight when I searched, results did show up - and the very first one was a Facebook page. All the info was private, but the picture showed a smiling woman around my age posing with a handsome man. I'm not 100% sure that it's my old pen pal, but she seems to be the right age, she's African, and her face seems like it could be an older version of the 11-year-old girl I had a photograph of for years (I tried to find it, but at some point during a college cleaning I probably threw it out). I sent her a message - we'll wait and see if a) she remembers me and b) it's really the same person at all.
What really struck me, though, and what prompted me to write all this down, was our profile pictures. Like I said before, her profile picture (and the only picture I could view) was of her standing (or sitting) beside a nice looking man, a little taller than she is, looks like he's probably a significant other, and she's got her head on his shoulder. I clicked over to my profile...and realized that while Scott and I live in a different world on a different continent, my picture of us is almost the exact same pose.
And I realized that not only is it extremely interesting how common human experiences are represented by pictures in general, but how the pictures we choose to represent ourselves can often point to where we are in our lives.**
I notice that high school and some college kids in general tend to have vaguely "artistic" photos of themselves. Even kids I know who don't fall under any kind of "emo" label have profile pictures that I would feel safe calling emo.
Then there's the older college kids, who seem to follow a trend of making their profile picture either a) a group shot of them*** and their friends at a party b) a group shot of them and their friends on a big adventure or c) a shot of just them.
Then we move into the post-college crowd...at this point a lot of people I know are in serious, long-term relationships, and that, too, is reflected in their profile pictures. I am no exception. A few of the newlyweds have pictures of their wedding day.
Once we start getting past marriage, the next step is often a picture of the new house/apartment. Or, if that step is skipped, the next picture is of the new baby (or, increasingly, baby-on-the-way; ultrasound pics seem to be a new trend).
Oh, and my friends who don't have kids or SOs, or maybe just SOs but not kids, tend to have pictures of their cats.
Now, I don't have a lot of friends who are past the kid stage of their lives. Even my friends with older kids usually have some sort of picture of themselves and their kids as their profile image. However, I do find it interesting that out of the small number of people I know who are past children and into retirement, most of them have almost reverted back to the high school picture - a solitary shot, not really emo, but usually a quiet, simple sort of artistic.
Maybe I'm the only one who has observed these trends among my friends, but I do think it's quite interested to see how a social networking site can paint such a timeline of life events just by observing profile pictures.
*I would like to point out that I find this entire post little ironic, considering the title of this blog and my opinion of my own "image".
**I do realize that everyone does not fit these stereotypes. I'm just observing the trend.
***Please excuse my lack of grammar; I know it isn't proper to use "themselves" or "themself" the way I am here, but I get so sick of the whole "his or herself" thing.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Directing vs. Acting
I'm taking a self-imposed break from most things theatrical for a while until I can get my wedding planning off the ground. Right now, all I've got on my plate is directing Willy Wonka, Jr. at CDS and a Tuesday night acting class I'm getting ready to start teaching elsewhere.
I got to thinking about the kids in Willy Wonka. I'm really impressed by the talent that was shown when they auditioned, and they've been just about as professional as middle schoolers can be expected to be. There are two kids in particular that I was thinking about today; both of them phenomenally talented for their age, and sadly, both of them a little unhappy with their roles.
At least, I THINK they're a little unhappy. For the most part, they're very good sports, but I can tell every now and then that they don't quite understand why they weren't given what they consider "better" parts. The thing is, the reason they have the parts they were cast in is BECAUSE they're so talented. Even though I've tried to reiterate to them that their roles are two of the most challenging in the show (vocally and otherwise), I really think that THEY think I'm just saying that to be encouraging. And I'm not. I really mean it. They were perfect for the roles because I just couldn't see any other kids handling the specific vocality that's required. The roles I cast them in are really and truly two of my favorite characters in the show, and these kids are pulling it off beautifully.
And it got me to thinking...sometimes I wish all actors knew what directors take into consideration when casting a show. Because I've been there, too. Sometimes, as actors...we get parts and we think, "But I KNOW I deserve a better role. I KNOW I totally rocked that audition...and quite frankly, I know I'm better than such-and-such actor who got the lead." Don't deny it; you all know it's true. We've all had those thoughts. It's INCREDIBLY hard to imagine that maybe, just maybe, you got the part you got BECAUSE you're talented and no one else could handle the character role. Let's face it; it's fairly easy to play a lead most of the time. That doesn't mean we don't all want them at some point or another, but leads are typically not the most challenging roles. It's the comic character parts with the funny accents that are the most difficult to pull off successfully.
I just wish I could let these kids know that they really, REALLY are talented and that's why they got the parts they did. I know it wouldn't really help, because that kind of stuff only makes sense when you've been on the other side. If a director had told me five years ago that they cast me in what I considered a crap role because I was talented, not because I sucked...I probably wouldn't have believed them. It might have made me feel a little bit better, but not much.
Oh well. Maybe they'll both grow up and become directors and understand what I was doing. Until then...it's snowy, and cold, and I'm very disappointed that Montford apparently decided not to have a 12th Night party this January. David, if you're reading this, we should totally throw a guerrilla 12th Night celebration after the board meeting next weekend. Except by the time it's over, we will be clawing at the door to get out of that green room.
I got to thinking about the kids in Willy Wonka. I'm really impressed by the talent that was shown when they auditioned, and they've been just about as professional as middle schoolers can be expected to be. There are two kids in particular that I was thinking about today; both of them phenomenally talented for their age, and sadly, both of them a little unhappy with their roles.
At least, I THINK they're a little unhappy. For the most part, they're very good sports, but I can tell every now and then that they don't quite understand why they weren't given what they consider "better" parts. The thing is, the reason they have the parts they were cast in is BECAUSE they're so talented. Even though I've tried to reiterate to them that their roles are two of the most challenging in the show (vocally and otherwise), I really think that THEY think I'm just saying that to be encouraging. And I'm not. I really mean it. They were perfect for the roles because I just couldn't see any other kids handling the specific vocality that's required. The roles I cast them in are really and truly two of my favorite characters in the show, and these kids are pulling it off beautifully.
And it got me to thinking...sometimes I wish all actors knew what directors take into consideration when casting a show. Because I've been there, too. Sometimes, as actors...we get parts and we think, "But I KNOW I deserve a better role. I KNOW I totally rocked that audition...and quite frankly, I know I'm better than such-and-such actor who got the lead." Don't deny it; you all know it's true. We've all had those thoughts. It's INCREDIBLY hard to imagine that maybe, just maybe, you got the part you got BECAUSE you're talented and no one else could handle the character role. Let's face it; it's fairly easy to play a lead most of the time. That doesn't mean we don't all want them at some point or another, but leads are typically not the most challenging roles. It's the comic character parts with the funny accents that are the most difficult to pull off successfully.
I just wish I could let these kids know that they really, REALLY are talented and that's why they got the parts they did. I know it wouldn't really help, because that kind of stuff only makes sense when you've been on the other side. If a director had told me five years ago that they cast me in what I considered a crap role because I was talented, not because I sucked...I probably wouldn't have believed them. It might have made me feel a little bit better, but not much.
Oh well. Maybe they'll both grow up and become directors and understand what I was doing. Until then...it's snowy, and cold, and I'm very disappointed that Montford apparently decided not to have a 12th Night party this January. David, if you're reading this, we should totally throw a guerrilla 12th Night celebration after the board meeting next weekend. Except by the time it's over, we will be clawing at the door to get out of that green room.
Monday, December 28, 2009
On Marriage
Sometimes I'm a little overwhelmed by this whole engagement thing. Don't get me wrong - I'm incredibly excited, I've been waiting for this for a long time, and I can't wait to be married to Scott. At the same time, it's kind of akin to moving away from a place you love to go to another place you love - I keep finding myself thinking about "last time" events. This was my last Christmas before I get married. It was my last birthday. It's going to be my last New Year's Eve. I'm not really sad about any of this, but it does make me stop and think about things a little more.
Speaking of weddings, I noticed something strange (and possibly alarming?) about all the wedding website that are out there. They all assume that the couple getting married is already living together. Now, I don't have any moral objection to this. I think it's fine for people to live together before they get married if that's what they think is best for them. Or, in the case of people who can't get married, that's the only option. However, I think it's kind of disturbing that society just assumes an engaged couple is already living together. I have a lot of friends who are shocked to find out that Scott and I aren't moving in together until we get married. When did that become the acceptable norm?
The reason this bothers me is because statistics show that when couples live together before marriage, they're more likely to get divorced. Now, before anyone gets riled up over that, let me reiterate that I don't believe this happens to ALL couples. I know a lot of people who have lived together for years and have ended up very happily married. The problem with living together before marriage is that couples tend to move in together very quickly these days, and after that, marriage eventually seems like the next step to take. Instead of marriage being a big decision that couples really talk through and really WANT, it turns into "Well, we might as well get married."
I don't just gather this information from some statistics I've read about - I've seen it happen far too many times. I've known at least a dozen couples who quite honestly should not have gotten married, but they did it because they were already living together and just figured marriage would make life easier. Some of them did it to try and fix problems that were already in existence, and those problems just magnified after the vows. These couples are all either very unhappy with their relationship, or they're already divorced.
People move in with each other for all sorts of reasons, but the biggest reason seems to be convenience. It's convenient to have one apartment instead of two. It's convenient to split all the bills and pool finances. It's convenient not to have to drive across town to see each other. Society is obsessed with convenience. Society is also full of people who are divorced, obese, and generally unhealthy because of convenience.
And I know there are extenuating circumstances that make moving in together necessary. A friend of mine had to vacate her apartment and had no where else to go because she hadn't found a new place yet, so she moved in with her boyfriend - for a few weeks, until she got her own place. Now, this couple lives together, but they dated for well over a year before even considering taking that step.
My real problem with all this assumption isn't that I think people who live with each other before marriage are doomed for divorce. No, the issue is that people move in together without THINKING. It's typically young people, people my age and a little bit younger, who make the mistake of moving in with each other weeks into a relationship. Granted, there are exceptions where it isn't a mistake, but stay with me here. These people are sharing toothpaste before they've even fully shared their life stories with each other. Does that seem like a logical step? No. So why is moving in together?
My biggest pet peeve of all is people who say "Well, if you don't live together before you get married, how do you know you'll actually get along?" This question is utterly ridiculous to me. If you're serious about marriage, if you're ready to make a commitment to someone that will last for the REST OF YOUR LIVES, you shouldn't have to live together to know if you'll be able to make it work. You are COMMITTING yourselves to making it work. I'm not saying there won't be trials. You WILL drive each other crazy for a while as you learn all of each other's annoying little habits. But if you had moved in with each other, and all those annoying habits were enough to make you NOT want to marry that person...then that wasn't much of a relationship to begin with.
And please, just in case anyone actually reads this and decides to get all riled up over anything I've said, understand that I am not condemning the actual act of living together before marriage. I know lots of couples who live together happily with no plans to marry, or who have lived together in the past and are happily married now. What I'm trying to speak out against is the general attitude towards marriage these days, the casualness people view such a huge commitment with, and I think that the trend of assuming couples live with each other is only adding to that lack of seriousness. I'm aware that there really are positive sides to moving in together. I just wish people would start treating living together the same way they SHOULD be treating marriage - like a serious commitment that's not to be taken lightly.
I could write on for pages about this (too late!), but I'll just let C.S. Lewis sum things up for me:
From Mere Christianity
"The idea that "being in love" is the only reason for remaining married really leaves no room for marriage as a contract or promise at all. If love is the whole thing, then the promise can add nothing; and if it adds nothing, then it should not be made. The curious thing is that lovers themselves, while they remain really in love, know this better than those who talk about love. As Chesterton pointed out, those who are in love have a natural inclination to bind themselves by promises. Love songs all over the world are full of vows of eternal constancy. The Christian law is not forcing upon the passion of love something which is foreign to that passion's own nature: it is demanding that lovers should take seriously something which their passion of itself impels them to do.
And, of course, the promise, made when I am in love and because I am in love, to be true to the beloved as long as I live, commits me to being true even if I cease to be in love. A promise must be about things that I can do, about actions: no one can promise to go on feeling in a certain way. He might as well promise never to have a headache or always to feel hungry."
-- C. S. Lewis
EDIT 2/5/2010: Just found this article and felt that it needed to be linked with this post.
Speaking of weddings, I noticed something strange (and possibly alarming?) about all the wedding website that are out there. They all assume that the couple getting married is already living together. Now, I don't have any moral objection to this. I think it's fine for people to live together before they get married if that's what they think is best for them. Or, in the case of people who can't get married, that's the only option. However, I think it's kind of disturbing that society just assumes an engaged couple is already living together. I have a lot of friends who are shocked to find out that Scott and I aren't moving in together until we get married. When did that become the acceptable norm?
The reason this bothers me is because statistics show that when couples live together before marriage, they're more likely to get divorced. Now, before anyone gets riled up over that, let me reiterate that I don't believe this happens to ALL couples. I know a lot of people who have lived together for years and have ended up very happily married. The problem with living together before marriage is that couples tend to move in together very quickly these days, and after that, marriage eventually seems like the next step to take. Instead of marriage being a big decision that couples really talk through and really WANT, it turns into "Well, we might as well get married."
I don't just gather this information from some statistics I've read about - I've seen it happen far too many times. I've known at least a dozen couples who quite honestly should not have gotten married, but they did it because they were already living together and just figured marriage would make life easier. Some of them did it to try and fix problems that were already in existence, and those problems just magnified after the vows. These couples are all either very unhappy with their relationship, or they're already divorced.
People move in with each other for all sorts of reasons, but the biggest reason seems to be convenience. It's convenient to have one apartment instead of two. It's convenient to split all the bills and pool finances. It's convenient not to have to drive across town to see each other. Society is obsessed with convenience. Society is also full of people who are divorced, obese, and generally unhealthy because of convenience.
And I know there are extenuating circumstances that make moving in together necessary. A friend of mine had to vacate her apartment and had no where else to go because she hadn't found a new place yet, so she moved in with her boyfriend - for a few weeks, until she got her own place. Now, this couple lives together, but they dated for well over a year before even considering taking that step.
My real problem with all this assumption isn't that I think people who live with each other before marriage are doomed for divorce. No, the issue is that people move in together without THINKING. It's typically young people, people my age and a little bit younger, who make the mistake of moving in with each other weeks into a relationship. Granted, there are exceptions where it isn't a mistake, but stay with me here. These people are sharing toothpaste before they've even fully shared their life stories with each other. Does that seem like a logical step? No. So why is moving in together?
My biggest pet peeve of all is people who say "Well, if you don't live together before you get married, how do you know you'll actually get along?" This question is utterly ridiculous to me. If you're serious about marriage, if you're ready to make a commitment to someone that will last for the REST OF YOUR LIVES, you shouldn't have to live together to know if you'll be able to make it work. You are COMMITTING yourselves to making it work. I'm not saying there won't be trials. You WILL drive each other crazy for a while as you learn all of each other's annoying little habits. But if you had moved in with each other, and all those annoying habits were enough to make you NOT want to marry that person...then that wasn't much of a relationship to begin with.
And please, just in case anyone actually reads this and decides to get all riled up over anything I've said, understand that I am not condemning the actual act of living together before marriage. I know lots of couples who live together happily with no plans to marry, or who have lived together in the past and are happily married now. What I'm trying to speak out against is the general attitude towards marriage these days, the casualness people view such a huge commitment with, and I think that the trend of assuming couples live with each other is only adding to that lack of seriousness. I'm aware that there really are positive sides to moving in together. I just wish people would start treating living together the same way they SHOULD be treating marriage - like a serious commitment that's not to be taken lightly.
I could write on for pages about this (too late!), but I'll just let C.S. Lewis sum things up for me:
From Mere Christianity
"The idea that "being in love" is the only reason for remaining married really leaves no room for marriage as a contract or promise at all. If love is the whole thing, then the promise can add nothing; and if it adds nothing, then it should not be made. The curious thing is that lovers themselves, while they remain really in love, know this better than those who talk about love. As Chesterton pointed out, those who are in love have a natural inclination to bind themselves by promises. Love songs all over the world are full of vows of eternal constancy. The Christian law is not forcing upon the passion of love something which is foreign to that passion's own nature: it is demanding that lovers should take seriously something which their passion of itself impels them to do.
And, of course, the promise, made when I am in love and because I am in love, to be true to the beloved as long as I live, commits me to being true even if I cease to be in love. A promise must be about things that I can do, about actions: no one can promise to go on feeling in a certain way. He might as well promise never to have a headache or always to feel hungry."
-- C. S. Lewis
EDIT 2/5/2010: Just found this article and felt that it needed to be linked with this post.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Crazy beautiful life
Sometimes it amazes me how strange and beautiful this world we live in is. This amazing circle we call life is such an interesting journey, and I'm so thankful that I always feel like someone out there is watching out for me.
For instance, today I had planned to go to Beaver Lake and take a walk around while on my break before Willy Wonka rehearsal at Carolina Day. I would have gotten there around 1:30 and left between 3:00 and 3:10. The only reason I didn't go is because Scott and I decided to meet for lunch in Skyland instead. Tonight I caught some headlines in the news and found out that there was a fatal accident this afternoon right in front of the gas station next to Beaver Lake...at 3:10 this afternoon. I immediately felt extremely lucky to be alive. It's very sad that someone out there wasn't so lucky today, but I'm still thankful.
I guess what really started me thinking about all this philosophical life and death stuff was when I logged onto Facebook today and realized that one of my former college professors (who was very close to our age and a friend to most of us) and his wife (who was my voice teacher) had their baby two weeks ago. What really got me is that while they were spending their day welcoming a beautiful little girl into this world, Scott and I spent that same day with his family and friends saying our final goodbyes to his brother, Michael. For some reason, this realization struck me as a very beautiful thing. One of my favorite quotes from Gone with the Wind is when Melanie says, "The happiest days are when babies come." I've always identified with that philosophy - every time I know someone who is having a baby, even if they're only an acquaintance or (most likely) a parent of one of my preschool kids, I'm always excited on the days when babies come. And you know...somewhere in the world, that's every day. Every day is a happy day to someone out there. Even when we're dealing with our own tragedies, somewhere out there, a baby is being born. I think that's reason enough to be happy.
I'm really just spouting off thoughts now, but I'd kind of like to end this with one of my favorite stories, my own personal evidence that God exists and that he has some kind of plan for us. About four years ago now, I was driving down Highway 321 in the afternoon, trying to make it to South Carolina for the monthly showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, which I was in down there at the time. I foolishly forgot to check the coolant level in my ancient blue Ford before I left, so right when I was at an almost middle-of-nowhere spot on the highway, my car began to overheat like crazy. I knew I couldn't keep driving it, so I pulled off at the next exit I came to without really looking at the exit number or even which direction a gas station was in.
Well, I turned right when the gas station was to the left. I drove for about half a mile, and just when I was getting really anxious and thinking about turning around, I came upon a little country church. "Oh, please God, let there be a water spigot outside the building!" I thought, pulling into the deserted parking lot. I got out of the car and propped the hood up as steam billowed out from under it, then got an empty water jug from the trunk and began looking for a spigot. Miraculously, I found out on the backside of the building and got my car in working order again.
As I was leaving the parking lot, I glanced at the church sign out front, and as soon as I read what was written, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. There was no Bible verse, no announcement about a church picnic or a quote from a famous theologist. The sign contained only three words:
God's Filling Station.
Now, as much as I'd like to leave the story there, there's a second part that didn't come into play until very recently. Even though I traveled down 321 several times over the next three years after that day, I was never able to figure out exactly which exit it was that I had taken to get to that little church. I had been so stressed out about the car at the time that I could only remember turning right off the exit when the gas station was on the left. Well, a little earlier this year, Scott and I were driving somewhere near his home town, and I mentioned to him that a road we were on looked very familiar. I told him the story, asked him if there was a little church down that road, and he said he wasn't sure.
After that day I hadn't thought that much about it, until two weeks ago when I was driving down to Maiden the day before Michael's funeral service. Scott had given me directions to a gas station just off an exit on the left, and he was going to meet me there so I could follow him on the back roads to his house. I was a little earlier, and as soon as I got to the exit, I suddenly realized it was the same road that had looked so familiar to me on our earlier trip.
On a whim, I took a right off the exit. Sure enough, half a mile down the road, there stood that little brick church. I wish I could remember word for word what the sign said this time, and maybe if I was telling this story in a more formal capacity I would just make something up that sounded nice. But I do remember the sign was just as simple as before; no flowery verses quoted, no long fancy speeches. It was a simple message saying to lay your troubles on the Lord.
I don't know a single soul that goes to that little church; I can't even remember the name of it. But that little building will always hold a place in my heart for being so many things: a filling station when I needed it most, a reminder that we are not alone in our troubles, and most of all, a gentle little nudge that God had led me to my wonderful man who had grown up just off that little two-lane road.
For instance, today I had planned to go to Beaver Lake and take a walk around while on my break before Willy Wonka rehearsal at Carolina Day. I would have gotten there around 1:30 and left between 3:00 and 3:10. The only reason I didn't go is because Scott and I decided to meet for lunch in Skyland instead. Tonight I caught some headlines in the news and found out that there was a fatal accident this afternoon right in front of the gas station next to Beaver Lake...at 3:10 this afternoon. I immediately felt extremely lucky to be alive. It's very sad that someone out there wasn't so lucky today, but I'm still thankful.
I guess what really started me thinking about all this philosophical life and death stuff was when I logged onto Facebook today and realized that one of my former college professors (who was very close to our age and a friend to most of us) and his wife (who was my voice teacher) had their baby two weeks ago. What really got me is that while they were spending their day welcoming a beautiful little girl into this world, Scott and I spent that same day with his family and friends saying our final goodbyes to his brother, Michael. For some reason, this realization struck me as a very beautiful thing. One of my favorite quotes from Gone with the Wind is when Melanie says, "The happiest days are when babies come." I've always identified with that philosophy - every time I know someone who is having a baby, even if they're only an acquaintance or (most likely) a parent of one of my preschool kids, I'm always excited on the days when babies come. And you know...somewhere in the world, that's every day. Every day is a happy day to someone out there. Even when we're dealing with our own tragedies, somewhere out there, a baby is being born. I think that's reason enough to be happy.
I'm really just spouting off thoughts now, but I'd kind of like to end this with one of my favorite stories, my own personal evidence that God exists and that he has some kind of plan for us. About four years ago now, I was driving down Highway 321 in the afternoon, trying to make it to South Carolina for the monthly showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, which I was in down there at the time. I foolishly forgot to check the coolant level in my ancient blue Ford before I left, so right when I was at an almost middle-of-nowhere spot on the highway, my car began to overheat like crazy. I knew I couldn't keep driving it, so I pulled off at the next exit I came to without really looking at the exit number or even which direction a gas station was in.
Well, I turned right when the gas station was to the left. I drove for about half a mile, and just when I was getting really anxious and thinking about turning around, I came upon a little country church. "Oh, please God, let there be a water spigot outside the building!" I thought, pulling into the deserted parking lot. I got out of the car and propped the hood up as steam billowed out from under it, then got an empty water jug from the trunk and began looking for a spigot. Miraculously, I found out on the backside of the building and got my car in working order again.
As I was leaving the parking lot, I glanced at the church sign out front, and as soon as I read what was written, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. There was no Bible verse, no announcement about a church picnic or a quote from a famous theologist. The sign contained only three words:
God's Filling Station.
Now, as much as I'd like to leave the story there, there's a second part that didn't come into play until very recently. Even though I traveled down 321 several times over the next three years after that day, I was never able to figure out exactly which exit it was that I had taken to get to that little church. I had been so stressed out about the car at the time that I could only remember turning right off the exit when the gas station was on the left. Well, a little earlier this year, Scott and I were driving somewhere near his home town, and I mentioned to him that a road we were on looked very familiar. I told him the story, asked him if there was a little church down that road, and he said he wasn't sure.
After that day I hadn't thought that much about it, until two weeks ago when I was driving down to Maiden the day before Michael's funeral service. Scott had given me directions to a gas station just off an exit on the left, and he was going to meet me there so I could follow him on the back roads to his house. I was a little earlier, and as soon as I got to the exit, I suddenly realized it was the same road that had looked so familiar to me on our earlier trip.
On a whim, I took a right off the exit. Sure enough, half a mile down the road, there stood that little brick church. I wish I could remember word for word what the sign said this time, and maybe if I was telling this story in a more formal capacity I would just make something up that sounded nice. But I do remember the sign was just as simple as before; no flowery verses quoted, no long fancy speeches. It was a simple message saying to lay your troubles on the Lord.
I don't know a single soul that goes to that little church; I can't even remember the name of it. But that little building will always hold a place in my heart for being so many things: a filling station when I needed it most, a reminder that we are not alone in our troubles, and most of all, a gentle little nudge that God had led me to my wonderful man who had grown up just off that little two-lane road.
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