It's so amusing.. I haven't had dial-up internet since 1999. I realised my Dad actually still had a dial-up account that he accessed on his laptop, so now the phone line is plugged into my laptop. Brilliant! Now I can type, check email, et cetera. Life is sweet, but I am still incredibly amused by the fact that I am using dial-up.
Spent a day of gallavanting with Paul yesterday.. very fun. We watched one of my new favourite films, Hot Fuzz, and wandered and ate pizza. A gorgeous way to spend a day when one is meant to be at classes! Oh well - some classes as just meant to be missed. Especially when they will be spent discussing the differences between pictures, symbols, propositions, signs, logic, unlogic, reality.. et cetera. I'm really not sure why I chose to study an entire semester of the philosophy of Ludwig Wittgenstein. His work is set out numerically in very short sentences, which I am thankful for, but it is still a lot to grasp. The worst part is that I have to write an essay on it soon.. but I have three other essays to worry about first.
I also auditioned for The Grapes of Wrath, for the character Rose of Sharon. I walked in and read the scene where Rose dreams out loud about her new life with Connie in the city. The director said, "Great, that was great, can you read it one more time and try to make it a bit more ... earthy? I mean, don't make her dumb, but just make it a bit clearer that she's not educated." So, I was louder, a littler coarser, scratched my elbow and put a little bit more of a boyish twang in my voice. The director said, "Fantastic, that was perfect. You can go."
So, I have absolutely no idea how I went! Then a younger man took my photo, and I commented that I had just had the shortest audition of my life. He said that the longer auditions were usually the ones where the actors were having the most trouble. I thought about the woman who was directly before me, auditioning for Ma... she was in there for 15 minutes.
We'll see how it goes, I'll know by tomorrow.
Something very exciting is happening though. Later this year around October, there will be a federal election - the first one I can vote on. And unlike most people my age, I am actually incredibly excited about that. John Howard has stirred my ire for a long time. Certainly I will admit that he is a formidable force in politics, but I am far from trusting him. In his later years, he has come across more and more as sneaky, cunning, hypocritical, nasty and self-interested, mostly as he has tried to cover scandal after scandal. Unfortunately for us, the opposition usually wasn't much better - Kim Beazley and Mark Latham were hardly model citizens.
Now there is someone I actually like and trust, who I hope will be the Prime Minister by the end of the year. But more about him and how I met him next time!....
Showing posts with label performing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label performing. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 4
Wednesday, March 14
She Strikes Again
Today was oh-so-productive. I rescheduled a job interview for Friday morning, I went to an interview with a talent agent who liked me and wants to get photos done asap, then I headed off to university to do a three-week acting workshop I signed up for.
Disaster struck. I was ten minutes late to class due to some trams breaking down, and as I ran up to the closed door I heard them doing an exercise inside. A name-learning exercise. I heard names like Oscar and Leah, and then the dreaded one. The name of my absolute rival. My stomach turned and I suddenly found myself physically unable to go inside. My spirits fell a million kilometers and I skulked off to console myself with a bubble tea.
I simply cannot live in the same city as her and go to the same university as her.
We were in high school together for a year, and this is what really cemented my opinion of her. She came into our drama class, appearing fun and bubbly. She wanted to hug everybody as soon as she met them and was incredibly friendly. Then I noticed that when I was working with her, she would bitch about everybody else. From others in the class, I found out that she did exactly the same with them. She was two-faced, conceited and nasty, but we let it slide and continued being nice and civil to her.
It got worse though, and she started making comments continually implying that she was somehow 'above' the rest of the class. She was/is a good, if rather limited, actress but it was uncalled for.. especially in a learning environment.
Finally, everything came to a head when we were preparing our Year 12 Drama solos. These were an incredibly big deal... we had to think up and write a 7 minute piece to adhere to a very strict and detailed structure, then perform it for a panel of three judges. Very difficult. It was the day before our exam and we were having final individual run-throughs with our teacher; tensions were running high and everybody was on edge, but what she said was uncalled for.
Our teacher, Kath, had been incredibly supportive of us and had gone beyond what she was expected to do as our teacher. She had donated her lunchtimes, hours after school and numerous spares in between classes to help us prepare for the exam. Especially for my rival, who asked for more help than any of us and received it without a hint of gratitude.
Prior to her run-through, she began a whiny outpouring to everybody else in the rehearsal room. "This is so annoying, I knew I should have gone to (random private school in my town). The quality of teaching here is so bad, especially in Drama. Well, I'm sure that you will all understand if you get C's and D's, because that's just your standard.. but my work is really deserving of an A+ and I just know that I'm not going to get it because she didn't help me enough. I just know that I am going to fail because Ms. C didn't help me enough. It's like she doesn't even care..." Et cetera, ad nauseum. Everybody was ready to punch her - we were silently and diligently rehearsing while she raved about our quite extraordinary Drama teacher.
So I yelled at her. I told her that she was full of herself, she wasn't nearly as talented as she thought she was and that we were all sick to death of her backstabbing and bitchiness. I told her that she got more help than anybody and should be thankful.
I don't yell at people very often, and this overwhelming need to yell at her made me quite upset.. so I ran away and hid in a tree at the park until the rest of the girls in the class came to find me and give me high-fives.
What did my rival do after I yelled at her? She looked around the room and said, "Oh.. was that directed at me?"
Gah. I can't handle her encroaching on every dramatic pursuit I try for in this place.
Disaster struck. I was ten minutes late to class due to some trams breaking down, and as I ran up to the closed door I heard them doing an exercise inside. A name-learning exercise. I heard names like Oscar and Leah, and then the dreaded one. The name of my absolute rival. My stomach turned and I suddenly found myself physically unable to go inside. My spirits fell a million kilometers and I skulked off to console myself with a bubble tea.
I simply cannot live in the same city as her and go to the same university as her.
We were in high school together for a year, and this is what really cemented my opinion of her. She came into our drama class, appearing fun and bubbly. She wanted to hug everybody as soon as she met them and was incredibly friendly. Then I noticed that when I was working with her, she would bitch about everybody else. From others in the class, I found out that she did exactly the same with them. She was two-faced, conceited and nasty, but we let it slide and continued being nice and civil to her.
It got worse though, and she started making comments continually implying that she was somehow 'above' the rest of the class. She was/is a good, if rather limited, actress but it was uncalled for.. especially in a learning environment.
Finally, everything came to a head when we were preparing our Year 12 Drama solos. These were an incredibly big deal... we had to think up and write a 7 minute piece to adhere to a very strict and detailed structure, then perform it for a panel of three judges. Very difficult. It was the day before our exam and we were having final individual run-throughs with our teacher; tensions were running high and everybody was on edge, but what she said was uncalled for.
Our teacher, Kath, had been incredibly supportive of us and had gone beyond what she was expected to do as our teacher. She had donated her lunchtimes, hours after school and numerous spares in between classes to help us prepare for the exam. Especially for my rival, who asked for more help than any of us and received it without a hint of gratitude.
Prior to her run-through, she began a whiny outpouring to everybody else in the rehearsal room. "This is so annoying, I knew I should have gone to (random private school in my town). The quality of teaching here is so bad, especially in Drama. Well, I'm sure that you will all understand if you get C's and D's, because that's just your standard.. but my work is really deserving of an A+ and I just know that I'm not going to get it because she didn't help me enough. I just know that I am going to fail because Ms. C didn't help me enough. It's like she doesn't even care..." Et cetera, ad nauseum. Everybody was ready to punch her - we were silently and diligently rehearsing while she raved about our quite extraordinary Drama teacher.
So I yelled at her. I told her that she was full of herself, she wasn't nearly as talented as she thought she was and that we were all sick to death of her backstabbing and bitchiness. I told her that she got more help than anybody and should be thankful.
I don't yell at people very often, and this overwhelming need to yell at her made me quite upset.. so I ran away and hid in a tree at the park until the rest of the girls in the class came to find me and give me high-fives.
What did my rival do after I yelled at her? She looked around the room and said, "Oh.. was that directed at me?"
Gah. I can't handle her encroaching on every dramatic pursuit I try for in this place.
Tuesday, March 13
Wide Academic Sea
Just had a very lonely day. I caught the tram to uni, went to a lecture, went to another lecture, sat in the hallway reading, got a non-fat hot chocolate that burnt my tongue, sent emails, ate my lunch on the lawn behind the Asia Centre and shared crumbs with a very cute bird. I was alone all day, despite being surrounded by thousands of people with all their friends. University is an incredbly isolated place, and there isn't much scope for reserved, inhibited people who aren't gay, Christian, feminists, socialists or sci-fi addicts to make friends. I did meet somebody though. In my literature class, I started talking to a girl called Georgiana. We have practically nothing in common other than our shyness and inability to make instant friends, but we're clinging to each other so we don't drown. Luckily she is in my Shakespeare class as well.
Other than that, I am madly trying to audition for things. Nervewracking to say the least, I have an audition for The Importance of Being Earnest this Saturday. I'm gunning for Cecily - she suits me physically, I think. I have a rather open, innocent and almost childlike face, I am short and I have a rather high-pitched sweet sort of voice. And as much fun as playing Gwendolen would be, I am simply too young.
Other than that, The Grapes of Wrath is coming up soon, as are an absurdist production and a Shakespearean production. Anything is good.
Oh! I applied for an agency. Hopefully (VERY HOPEFULLY) they will grant me an audition in April. Then I have to wow their pants off and they will get me jobs! As a sort of back-up, I have an interview with some people at another agency tomorrow. These people are less 'dramatic actors' type representation, and more just people for television commercials and extras for movies and television shows. Not my thing, but I suppose saying "Also has appeared in various TVCs" on my resume is better than nothing.
Something I was thinking about a lot today has absolutely nothing to do with the proceeding paragraphs, but I thought I should include it nonetheless. I even wrote a sort of mock-up in my exercise book of what I would write on this subject, but I'm ad-libbing here.
Last year, I had a tutor who I would consider a kindred spirit. I suddenly remembered him today as I walked past where his office used to be and wondered whether or not I'd ever see him again, and again when I was sitting in the hall, wondering whether he would pass, wondering whether he would even acknowledge me. He tutored me in my philosophy subject and was practically one of the only things that could get a smile out of me for the entirety of last year. He encouraged his students to email him some thoughts and questions each week so he could tell we were actually thinking about things. My pieces eventually turned into mammoth efforts asking questions about every facet of philosophical enquiry that we would bat back and forth like tennis.
There was one event that was the only time that somebody at university really reached out to me, and I was thinking about it today. I had an essay on Soren Kierkegaard that was already overdue by days and I had done very little. I came to his office shaking like a leaf with eyes red from crying, and he whisked me away to one of the brilliant staff lounges overlooking the beautiful avenue on South Lawn. He offered nearly two hours of his time, tissues, tea, and words of advice, wisdom and genuine warmth... enough to lift me out of the depths of despair. I finished the essay the next day and handed it in to receive a high distinction, unfortunately marred by the late penalty.
When that semester was over, I continued to email him but was.. 'shrugged'. To him, tutoring was just a job and I was just a student. That is obviously the way that it works and I really shouldn't have expected any more, but I didn't realise that it would be like that. So, my friendship was cut-off, I was underestimated and undervalued and I lost somebody who could have been an incredibly friend and verbal sparring partner. Anybody reading this would think that I was in love with him, but that wasn't the case - he was somebody who I connected with more than all my annoying pretentious peers, and he was the first and only person to really reach out to me when I needed a friend. So now, I don't even know whether the mysterious Zach Weber is even still at the university, let alone in the country. So I guess this will be one of those people whose presence, albeit brief, makes all the difference in my life.
Other than that, I am madly trying to audition for things. Nervewracking to say the least, I have an audition for The Importance of Being Earnest this Saturday. I'm gunning for Cecily - she suits me physically, I think. I have a rather open, innocent and almost childlike face, I am short and I have a rather high-pitched sweet sort of voice. And as much fun as playing Gwendolen would be, I am simply too young.
Other than that, The Grapes of Wrath is coming up soon, as are an absurdist production and a Shakespearean production. Anything is good.
Oh! I applied for an agency. Hopefully (VERY HOPEFULLY) they will grant me an audition in April. Then I have to wow their pants off and they will get me jobs! As a sort of back-up, I have an interview with some people at another agency tomorrow. These people are less 'dramatic actors' type representation, and more just people for television commercials and extras for movies and television shows. Not my thing, but I suppose saying "Also has appeared in various TVCs" on my resume is better than nothing.
Something I was thinking about a lot today has absolutely nothing to do with the proceeding paragraphs, but I thought I should include it nonetheless. I even wrote a sort of mock-up in my exercise book of what I would write on this subject, but I'm ad-libbing here.
Last year, I had a tutor who I would consider a kindred spirit. I suddenly remembered him today as I walked past where his office used to be and wondered whether or not I'd ever see him again, and again when I was sitting in the hall, wondering whether he would pass, wondering whether he would even acknowledge me. He tutored me in my philosophy subject and was practically one of the only things that could get a smile out of me for the entirety of last year. He encouraged his students to email him some thoughts and questions each week so he could tell we were actually thinking about things. My pieces eventually turned into mammoth efforts asking questions about every facet of philosophical enquiry that we would bat back and forth like tennis.
There was one event that was the only time that somebody at university really reached out to me, and I was thinking about it today. I had an essay on Soren Kierkegaard that was already overdue by days and I had done very little. I came to his office shaking like a leaf with eyes red from crying, and he whisked me away to one of the brilliant staff lounges overlooking the beautiful avenue on South Lawn. He offered nearly two hours of his time, tissues, tea, and words of advice, wisdom and genuine warmth... enough to lift me out of the depths of despair. I finished the essay the next day and handed it in to receive a high distinction, unfortunately marred by the late penalty.
When that semester was over, I continued to email him but was.. 'shrugged'. To him, tutoring was just a job and I was just a student. That is obviously the way that it works and I really shouldn't have expected any more, but I didn't realise that it would be like that. So, my friendship was cut-off, I was underestimated and undervalued and I lost somebody who could have been an incredibly friend and verbal sparring partner. Anybody reading this would think that I was in love with him, but that wasn't the case - he was somebody who I connected with more than all my annoying pretentious peers, and he was the first and only person to really reach out to me when I needed a friend. So now, I don't even know whether the mysterious Zach Weber is even still at the university, let alone in the country. So I guess this will be one of those people whose presence, albeit brief, makes all the difference in my life.
Friday, March 9
Just Keep Swimming, Just Keep Swimming...
Things could be so much more simple than this. Right now I'm trying to get some photos and a resume from my laptop (no internet access) to my Dad's laptop (with dial-up, which is thrilling me more than I can say). Now: think up the most contrived and complicated way that I could possibly transfer these files, add a couple of steps and you might be close to what I am doing right now. It involves 3 1/2 inch floppy disks and trying to find non-existent USB ports.
The best part is that I am doing this so I can send snapshots of me (too poor currently for professional headshots) and my oh-so-slick resume (which doesn't actually have more than 10 credits) to poor student and independent filmmakers who can't afford to pay me even if I get the job, and will probably turn me away anyway. Such is life, but it sucks just a bit. I would prefer a great deal if I had an agent doing all this running around for me and actually having access to the 'real' casting calls. Sigh. In time, I suppose.
It is just very frustrating to sift through the limited number of non-agent casting notices for my state and see that practically all of them only want male actors, and the only female actors wanted are either middle aged or elderly.
Other than that, things are whirring away. Lucien is coming up to visit me tonight, which shall be grand. I haven't seen him for a whole week, which is a long time considering we were practically living in the same building for most of the holidays. There will be hugging and playing and much watching of films, but alas... no chocolate. I'm actually serious for once! I've been eating very very very healthily and trying to do at least 30 minutes of cardio and 30 minutes of ballet or pilates based body weight exercises every day. So far I lost about 1kg in 5 days.. which I suppose is good. But I still wish this process would happen faster.
The theme of the moment seems to be "work hard now, results later". In the way I look, my acting 'career', school, et cetera. I'm sure I'll feel great when I actually achieve something, but it all seems so far away right now.
Maybe something great and unexpected is just around the corner. Hopefully.
The best part is that I am doing this so I can send snapshots of me (too poor currently for professional headshots) and my oh-so-slick resume (which doesn't actually have more than 10 credits) to poor student and independent filmmakers who can't afford to pay me even if I get the job, and will probably turn me away anyway. Such is life, but it sucks just a bit. I would prefer a great deal if I had an agent doing all this running around for me and actually having access to the 'real' casting calls. Sigh. In time, I suppose.
It is just very frustrating to sift through the limited number of non-agent casting notices for my state and see that practically all of them only want male actors, and the only female actors wanted are either middle aged or elderly.
Other than that, things are whirring away. Lucien is coming up to visit me tonight, which shall be grand. I haven't seen him for a whole week, which is a long time considering we were practically living in the same building for most of the holidays. There will be hugging and playing and much watching of films, but alas... no chocolate. I'm actually serious for once! I've been eating very very very healthily and trying to do at least 30 minutes of cardio and 30 minutes of ballet or pilates based body weight exercises every day. So far I lost about 1kg in 5 days.. which I suppose is good. But I still wish this process would happen faster.
The theme of the moment seems to be "work hard now, results later". In the way I look, my acting 'career', school, et cetera. I'm sure I'll feel great when I actually achieve something, but it all seems so far away right now.
Maybe something great and unexpected is just around the corner. Hopefully.
Saturday, February 10
Hurtling Along
I feel like a snowball rushing down a mountain, picking up tremendous speed and getting bigger and bigger as I go along. No, I'm not getting fat (quite the opposite, actually) but things are beginning to kick into a much faster, much more furious pace. I'm handling it all quite well, and very proud of myself!
I've had a bit of a revelation in terms of my acting career. Until now, it has always been a case of "I'm going to be an actress when I grow up". I'm 19 and a half, I think that if there was ever a time for me to grow up.. now is it. I can't just keep waiting for things to happen; so I'm going to make them happen.
So.. new goals in life: 1) Become the bestest actress in the world.
2) Become successful in my art, moving to LA and doing great films
3) Marry *certain film star*
He's only.. about 27 years older than me! I think this is perfectly reasonable (Mum, who is 30 years older than me, disagrees)!
It's very simplistic, but I need to start working harder. There are a billion struggling 'talented' actors for every successful, well-regarded one, and I don't want to be one of that group. This post is probably much more helpful for me than entertaining for you to read, sorry.
In other news, I am officially moving on Tuesday. Nowhere near being completely packed, though it should all come together pretty quickly. So much of the things in my room are just junk that will be thrown away, so I'm not sure there is that much left to pack. Shall be fun, I love having a new room!
In other other news, something rather bad happened. My Dad and his wife split up, after only about 6 months of marriage. As much as I dislike the idea of my father being with a woman who is not my mother, I was sort of happy that he had found someone who made him happy. That way I didn't have to worry anymore about him being lonely or sad.
Apparently his wife was absolutely vicious and hurt him a lot in the last couple of months, so hopefully it's for the best. I'm just not feeling too good about the whole deal, and suddenly feeling incredibly obliged to take my Dad out to the theatre.
My stomach is rumbling. I've been ignoring it all day. I'm on a weight-loss crusade, and I will not rest until I am a mere slip of my former self. Right now I am best classed as curvaceous - no, not 'curvaceous' in the way that fat women say they are because saying "I'm fat" isn't quite as alluring on dating sites, but actually curvaceous. I simply do not like it, that's all.
So today I have drunk a LOT of water, had two pieces of organic millet bread toast with ginger marmalade, a small bowl of miso soup and four prawn and lettuce rice paper rolls. Erk, doesn't sound like a proper meal let alone a whole day's worth of food. Oh well, this is the way I will have to get used to eating.
My, this post has been boring. I'm on a self-improvement empowerment spree and I suppose this blog is getting swept along for the ride. At least I'll have a couple of people saying "Go Rose!" or scolding me if I ever pause in my quests to be thin, a movie star and Mrs. *certain film star*.
I've had a bit of a revelation in terms of my acting career. Until now, it has always been a case of "I'm going to be an actress when I grow up". I'm 19 and a half, I think that if there was ever a time for me to grow up.. now is it. I can't just keep waiting for things to happen; so I'm going to make them happen.
So.. new goals in life: 1) Become the bestest actress in the world.
2) Become successful in my art, moving to LA and doing great films
3) Marry *certain film star*
He's only.. about 27 years older than me! I think this is perfectly reasonable (Mum, who is 30 years older than me, disagrees)!
It's very simplistic, but I need to start working harder. There are a billion struggling 'talented' actors for every successful, well-regarded one, and I don't want to be one of that group. This post is probably much more helpful for me than entertaining for you to read, sorry.
In other news, I am officially moving on Tuesday. Nowhere near being completely packed, though it should all come together pretty quickly. So much of the things in my room are just junk that will be thrown away, so I'm not sure there is that much left to pack. Shall be fun, I love having a new room!
In other other news, something rather bad happened. My Dad and his wife split up, after only about 6 months of marriage. As much as I dislike the idea of my father being with a woman who is not my mother, I was sort of happy that he had found someone who made him happy. That way I didn't have to worry anymore about him being lonely or sad.
Apparently his wife was absolutely vicious and hurt him a lot in the last couple of months, so hopefully it's for the best. I'm just not feeling too good about the whole deal, and suddenly feeling incredibly obliged to take my Dad out to the theatre.
My stomach is rumbling. I've been ignoring it all day. I'm on a weight-loss crusade, and I will not rest until I am a mere slip of my former self. Right now I am best classed as curvaceous - no, not 'curvaceous' in the way that fat women say they are because saying "I'm fat" isn't quite as alluring on dating sites, but actually curvaceous. I simply do not like it, that's all.
So today I have drunk a LOT of water, had two pieces of organic millet bread toast with ginger marmalade, a small bowl of miso soup and four prawn and lettuce rice paper rolls. Erk, doesn't sound like a proper meal let alone a whole day's worth of food. Oh well, this is the way I will have to get used to eating.
My, this post has been boring. I'm on a self-improvement empowerment spree and I suppose this blog is getting swept along for the ride. At least I'll have a couple of people saying "Go Rose!" or scolding me if I ever pause in my quests to be thin, a movie star and Mrs. *certain film star*.
Wednesday, February 7
Starstruck
I saw Asher Keddie at the supermarket!
...
Well, for those of you who don't know (and I don't really expect you all to know), Asher Keddie is an Australian actress who I have seen perform a couple of times (pictured right with some man wearing waaay too much makeup). She's currently making it in television, working on Love My Way, but she has also done a lot of really good theatre. The Ishmael Club, Cyrano de Bergerac, Les Liaisons Dangereuses, plus things that I didn't see like Chekhov, Williamson, et cetera.
To be fair, I did see two of her plays in VCE and was rather merciless when picking apart her performance. Perhaps I don't agree with her interpretation all the time, but I certainly admire the way she is climbing her way up the dramatic hierarchy in Australia. She is doing what I wish I was doing already, and hope to be doing very very soon.
Anyway, back to the supermarket. I was standing there with my Mum, waiting at the checkout. There was a thin blonde woman with BIG sunglasses on in front of us; she looked familiar but I wasn't sure where from. I subtly studied her for a little while until it hit me - "Oh my God Mum, that's Asher Keddie!!!". Whispered, of course. I was literally a metre and a half away from this woman that I had previously only seen from .. well, lots of metres as she performed on a stage and I merely watched. I was terrified that it might not be her, but then I noticed she was wearing a little diamante 'A' intial necklace. The deal was sealed - it was definitely Asher Keddie.
She was buying, among other things, juice and toilet paper. A lot of toilet paper. I'm not sure why she should need so much - perhaps she's going to a fancy dress party as a mummy? Or maybe she wants to toilet-paper someone's house? I don't know, but my brush with local semi-celebrity was enough excitement for one day!
Friday, November 24
Bounce Me Higher
I guess I'm in recovery mode. Came close to a relapse, but no cigar - I won the battle this time. To admit this, I'm not saying that everything is peaches and cream, because that is so far from the truth that it is laughable. But things will be improving, and I am feeling more optimistic about it now.
Had to be said. I never intended this journal to become the scrapheap of my mental health issues and self-help mantras; I pulled the plug on my former journal because it became just that. However, sometimes writing something down makes it solid. "I will get better" in my head can just as easily change to "I'm fat" or "University is too hard" or "My father doesn't love me". But the same sentence written down can't morph into something bad unless I let it.
So I won't.
Oh, I decided not to audition for Beauty and the Beast. Auditions were encroaching, and I had a particularly hard week leading up to the audition weekend. I eventually decided that it was too much effort, pain, money and time for such little reward - with politics the way they are, there was no chance and no way that I would possibly get Belle. I might have gotten ensemble, but things are complicated and it would have been given begrudgingly.
I have decided a better option is to try for The Pajama Game, being put on by UMMTA, the University of Melbourne Musical Theatre Association. I might have a chance at a role, it will be closer to my base of operations and who knows.. I might even make some friends at uni.
When I was littler, my family would go to Apollo Bay for two weeks every summer. We'd stay there with most of my extended family (Dad's side) in this big, old beach house. There was a huge willow tree in the backyard with some kind of raft nailed to the branches - our treehouse. Nobody worried that we'd fall out of the tree or get polio from rusty nails. There were chickens in a little run at the back of the yard, and sometimes they would jump the fence. We would chase them with sticks until they got scared enough to jump back into their run.
Each day all of us children would go to the beach as soon as we'd been slathered in sunscreen, and swim and play all day until we were so tired we could do nothing but drag ourselves home to bed. We'd peel our sunburnt skin off and compare it, and poke our hungover uncle asleep under the pool table. We would beg the adults for money to run off to the carnival or buy fish and chips.
But the best part was the trampolines. Every summer, the highlight for me was going trampolining - usually we'd only do it once, but I would look forward to going to Apollo Bay all year because of the trampolines. They were big, Olympic sized trampolines set into the ground so I couldn't fall off and hurt myself. I would jump until I felt sick, whirling, flipping, somersaulting.. screaming and laughing the whole time. I loved the way my hair would swish around my face and I was weightless for a couple of seconds. Adrenaline and endorphines galore. I loved it when my knees would buckle after being on it for ages; I'd land on my feet and crumple down to my knees and fall over on the trampoline.. a giggling, jiggling mess of a girl in socks and leggings. I loved it.
I'm beginning to crave it again. Definitely literally, but maybe figuratively as well. I want things to happen. Good things. Things that are so intensely wonderful they make me laugh and fall over. Things that make me smile until my face hurts, and I feel like my chest is going to burst open and rain little love-hearts, stars and flowers on everyone.
My shrink suggested today that I should take a.. patron of sorts. Perhaps an older man to provide some sense of companionship, in exchange for some sort of sponsorship. Nothing sexual, nothing untoward, nothing like that at all. Nothing that Lucien would have a problem with, of course. I suppose I'll have to explore the option further with my shrink, he said there were more people looking for that type of companionship than I would think. The idea freaks me out somewhat, I suppose I have changed a lot in recent times. Lots of things that I thought I'd never be able to do are suddenly things that I have done without looking back. I guess I'm growing up a bit.
Had to be said. I never intended this journal to become the scrapheap of my mental health issues and self-help mantras; I pulled the plug on my former journal because it became just that. However, sometimes writing something down makes it solid. "I will get better" in my head can just as easily change to "I'm fat" or "University is too hard" or "My father doesn't love me". But the same sentence written down can't morph into something bad unless I let it.
So I won't.
Oh, I decided not to audition for Beauty and the Beast. Auditions were encroaching, and I had a particularly hard week leading up to the audition weekend. I eventually decided that it was too much effort, pain, money and time for such little reward - with politics the way they are, there was no chance and no way that I would possibly get Belle. I might have gotten ensemble, but things are complicated and it would have been given begrudgingly.
I have decided a better option is to try for The Pajama Game, being put on by UMMTA, the University of Melbourne Musical Theatre Association. I might have a chance at a role, it will be closer to my base of operations and who knows.. I might even make some friends at uni.
When I was littler, my family would go to Apollo Bay for two weeks every summer. We'd stay there with most of my extended family (Dad's side) in this big, old beach house. There was a huge willow tree in the backyard with some kind of raft nailed to the branches - our treehouse. Nobody worried that we'd fall out of the tree or get polio from rusty nails. There were chickens in a little run at the back of the yard, and sometimes they would jump the fence. We would chase them with sticks until they got scared enough to jump back into their run.
Each day all of us children would go to the beach as soon as we'd been slathered in sunscreen, and swim and play all day until we were so tired we could do nothing but drag ourselves home to bed. We'd peel our sunburnt skin off and compare it, and poke our hungover uncle asleep under the pool table. We would beg the adults for money to run off to the carnival or buy fish and chips.
But the best part was the trampolines. Every summer, the highlight for me was going trampolining - usually we'd only do it once, but I would look forward to going to Apollo Bay all year because of the trampolines. They were big, Olympic sized trampolines set into the ground so I couldn't fall off and hurt myself. I would jump until I felt sick, whirling, flipping, somersaulting.. screaming and laughing the whole time. I loved the way my hair would swish around my face and I was weightless for a couple of seconds. Adrenaline and endorphines galore. I loved it when my knees would buckle after being on it for ages; I'd land on my feet and crumple down to my knees and fall over on the trampoline.. a giggling, jiggling mess of a girl in socks and leggings. I loved it.
I'm beginning to crave it again. Definitely literally, but maybe figuratively as well. I want things to happen. Good things. Things that are so intensely wonderful they make me laugh and fall over. Things that make me smile until my face hurts, and I feel like my chest is going to burst open and rain little love-hearts, stars and flowers on everyone.
My shrink suggested today that I should take a.. patron of sorts. Perhaps an older man to provide some sense of companionship, in exchange for some sort of sponsorship. Nothing sexual, nothing untoward, nothing like that at all. Nothing that Lucien would have a problem with, of course. I suppose I'll have to explore the option further with my shrink, he said there were more people looking for that type of companionship than I would think. The idea freaks me out somewhat, I suppose I have changed a lot in recent times. Lots of things that I thought I'd never be able to do are suddenly things that I have done without looking back. I guess I'm growing up a bit.
Tuesday, October 24
Here We Go Again
After such an abysmal time doing Anything Goes, I'm gearing up for another round of self-destruction. I'm auditioning for Beauty and the Beast.
The hope behind this decision is that it will wash away the bad taste brought about by my last show; I'll be doing something I believe in, I'll be appreciated, I'll be surrounded by hard-working and professional people for once and hopefully I'll be in a role that I can really flex my performing muscles. I'm gunning for Belle, but hundreds of girls will be, no doubt. None of the other female roles really suit me.. the Silly Girls call for busty and flamboyant girls. I am certainly busty and sometimes flamboyant, but Lucien noted that it's in a way that somehow doesn't compare to certain other individuals in town - they look like sex objects you'd see in a magazine, I apparently just look 'nice' and elegant. The role of Babette would be fun, except my dancing would probably not be up to scratch after being out of it for so long. Too young to play Madame des Grande Bouche or Mrs. Potts... I suppose I could play the Enchantress, but she's usually just a member of the ensemble and doesn't speak, doesn't sing, doesn't dance. Head a-splode!
So, the plan is to tailor my audition song and monologue towards Belle. Of the characters in the show, she suits me to a tee, but she also will be the most difficult to get. But we'll see.
Tomorrow is the last day of school. I'm freaking out - I have an assignment due in eight days and I haven't seen the film that I have to write on yet. Very worrying. A couple of days later, I have another essay due.. then I have to do a philosophy exam. Eek.
I had my first day with Myer today... actually, it was still training, but it was so strange and nice! I rocked up in a suit, shock horror, despite the fact that everybody else was dressed quite casually. One girl even turned up with jeans and converse on, for her first day at a job where the preferred dress is very clearly stated. She didn't even try, but she ended up being quite annoying and argumentative so I disregarded any sympathy I had previously felt for her. We sat in the 'Learning Institute' from 9am to 5:30pm, but it felt so much longer. I suddenly remembered everything that high school felt like.. the minutes that felt like hours and the times when you seriously wondered whether or not the clock was going backwards. A couple of times I actually caught myself blinking so heavily that I would almost fall asleep.
It wasn't all doom and gloom though - after the actual training day, I went to visit my department and introduce myself to my manager. She wasn't there, but I met a nice boy who is working in the same place as me and only started yesterday. Everybody in there seemed to have a less strict, more jolly idea of uniform. Instead of everybody wearing suits, the girls I saw were wearing variations on this theme - black pinafore dresses with white tops, curls in their hair and glitter on their faces. I later discovered from the nice boy that everybody gets covered in the glitter just from being on that particular floor. It was great fun and it felt so magical just being there. It will be so lovely, being surrounded by magic and Santa and trees and snow and glitter and fun and joy for a couple of months.
Ah! Excitement!
I am still bemoaning the loss of Olympia Manet. Where is she? I hope all is well, but I am suspecting the worst. My mind is flying to the worst case scenarios - maybe a crime of passion was committed after a client read Postmodern Courtesan. Maybe she is sick. Maybe, maybe, maybe. I am hoping that it is something fairly .. well, innocuous - like she had a change of career, or she fell in love and decided to shed her former life, or she just had a close call with someone discovering her identity and decided to discontinue her intrigues. I just hope she's ok, and if she reads this for some odd reason, good luck Olympia.
I almost got 'done' by tram inspectors today. I bought a daily concession card to travel into the city for work and out again when I was done. On my way back home, I was asked to show my ticket - which I did. They asked to see my concession card, and I thought, "Sure thing". Reached into my coin purse.. where is it? I hunted around in my bag, getting frantic, couldn't find it. I had it this morning and it doesn't seem to have fallen into my bag and tucked itself into a book or anything. I have absolutely no idea what I have done with it. Luckily for me, the ticket inspector was a young woman who saw how flustered I was getting and said, "Look, don't worry about it. I could fine you, but they're already busy at the other end [of the tram] so they're not going to notice. I'm just going to walk away." I whispered thank you, and couldn't believe my luck.. first at being so unlucky to lose my concession card, then to be so lucky to have such an understanding ticket inspector.
Now.. the tricky part comes in trying to get a new concession card. This would be easy if it were one of the tertiary travel ones, but no - my particular concession card was also my health care card, and I certainly can't pay full price for all my prescriptions. So, I'm in dire straights. Must find replacement!
The hope behind this decision is that it will wash away the bad taste brought about by my last show; I'll be doing something I believe in, I'll be appreciated, I'll be surrounded by hard-working and professional people for once and hopefully I'll be in a role that I can really flex my performing muscles. I'm gunning for Belle, but hundreds of girls will be, no doubt. None of the other female roles really suit me.. the Silly Girls call for busty and flamboyant girls. I am certainly busty and sometimes flamboyant, but Lucien noted that it's in a way that somehow doesn't compare to certain other individuals in town - they look like sex objects you'd see in a magazine, I apparently just look 'nice' and elegant. The role of Babette would be fun, except my dancing would probably not be up to scratch after being out of it for so long. Too young to play Madame des Grande Bouche or Mrs. Potts... I suppose I could play the Enchantress, but she's usually just a member of the ensemble and doesn't speak, doesn't sing, doesn't dance. Head a-splode!
So, the plan is to tailor my audition song and monologue towards Belle. Of the characters in the show, she suits me to a tee, but she also will be the most difficult to get. But we'll see.
Tomorrow is the last day of school. I'm freaking out - I have an assignment due in eight days and I haven't seen the film that I have to write on yet. Very worrying. A couple of days later, I have another essay due.. then I have to do a philosophy exam. Eek.
I had my first day with Myer today... actually, it was still training, but it was so strange and nice! I rocked up in a suit, shock horror, despite the fact that everybody else was dressed quite casually. One girl even turned up with jeans and converse on, for her first day at a job where the preferred dress is very clearly stated. She didn't even try, but she ended up being quite annoying and argumentative so I disregarded any sympathy I had previously felt for her. We sat in the 'Learning Institute' from 9am to 5:30pm, but it felt so much longer. I suddenly remembered everything that high school felt like.. the minutes that felt like hours and the times when you seriously wondered whether or not the clock was going backwards. A couple of times I actually caught myself blinking so heavily that I would almost fall asleep.
It wasn't all doom and gloom though - after the actual training day, I went to visit my department and introduce myself to my manager. She wasn't there, but I met a nice boy who is working in the same place as me and only started yesterday. Everybody in there seemed to have a less strict, more jolly idea of uniform. Instead of everybody wearing suits, the girls I saw were wearing variations on this theme - black pinafore dresses with white tops, curls in their hair and glitter on their faces. I later discovered from the nice boy that everybody gets covered in the glitter just from being on that particular floor. It was great fun and it felt so magical just being there. It will be so lovely, being surrounded by magic and Santa and trees and snow and glitter and fun and joy for a couple of months.
Ah! Excitement!
I am still bemoaning the loss of Olympia Manet. Where is she? I hope all is well, but I am suspecting the worst. My mind is flying to the worst case scenarios - maybe a crime of passion was committed after a client read Postmodern Courtesan. Maybe she is sick. Maybe, maybe, maybe. I am hoping that it is something fairly .. well, innocuous - like she had a change of career, or she fell in love and decided to shed her former life, or she just had a close call with someone discovering her identity and decided to discontinue her intrigues. I just hope she's ok, and if she reads this for some odd reason, good luck Olympia.
I almost got 'done' by tram inspectors today. I bought a daily concession card to travel into the city for work and out again when I was done. On my way back home, I was asked to show my ticket - which I did. They asked to see my concession card, and I thought, "Sure thing". Reached into my coin purse.. where is it? I hunted around in my bag, getting frantic, couldn't find it. I had it this morning and it doesn't seem to have fallen into my bag and tucked itself into a book or anything. I have absolutely no idea what I have done with it. Luckily for me, the ticket inspector was a young woman who saw how flustered I was getting and said, "Look, don't worry about it. I could fine you, but they're already busy at the other end [of the tram] so they're not going to notice. I'm just going to walk away." I whispered thank you, and couldn't believe my luck.. first at being so unlucky to lose my concession card, then to be so lucky to have such an understanding ticket inspector.
Now.. the tricky part comes in trying to get a new concession card. This would be easy if it were one of the tertiary travel ones, but no - my particular concession card was also my health care card, and I certainly can't pay full price for all my prescriptions. So, I'm in dire straights. Must find replacement!
Monday, October 16
Frenzy x 10
What a long time between posts, and what a lot has transpired. It would be far to much for me to detail every single little thing, so I'll give you a context and then give little snippets of the events surrounding the last couple of weeks. Here we go!
Last week was production week, leading up to opening night on Friday. From Tuesday onwards, we worked our butts off every single night from 6pm till 11pm, before getting kicked out of the theatre and having to continue notes and revisions at the local all-nighter pizza place. I would take off my makeup at night and wake up with the horrid oil-based orangey foundation still clinging to my face in the morning, no matter how hard I thought I had scrubbed. It was hellish... especially the absolute bitchiness that was going on backstage constantly. Let the snippets of heaven and hell begin.
The first big issue began when I had a little 'constructive criticism' concerning a costume. Originally I was given a ghastly blue dress full of shoulder pads, then an ugly purple dress I simply could not breathe in, and then.. worst of all, a wine-coloured polyester sack. Literally, this was a drop waisted dress with long sleeves and a high neck, possibly the least flattering thing ever for somebody with a pronounced hourglass shape. The fabric hits the slightest curve on my body and falls straight down.. now it's worse - due to an issue with static electricity, we sprayed it, leaving huge stains. Just peachy.
I brought in a dress that had belonged to my mother; she bought it from an op shop when she was 13, and it is clearly a 1930's dress. It's beautiful - black matte organza with a subtle cream pattern of wisteria, slightly off the shoulder, high waisted, completely sheer (needs a black slip underneath). On all accounts, it was perfect. All accounts except for the costumes ladies who denounced it as 'not the right era'. Hello? It was actually made in the right era, then they handed me that polyester abomination with a dropped waist? That was a hallmark of the 20's.. grrrr.
Eventually I was told to ask the director what he thought of the polyester dress. He basically unloaded on me, saying that I was being ridiculous, precious, I needed to be a team player and get over it. Concluding words: "If you don't wear what you're given, you're out of the show. Simple as that." Bastard..
The worst part is that many people were having issues with their costumes. My friend Carmel, who taps in the show, was asking him if she could wear an alternate costume - her reason was admittedly much better than mine. She has a rather energetic dance in one scene, then has to run off and get changed for the beginning of the very next scene into a heavy full length coat with about 30 buttons down the front. As soon as this short scene is over, she has to run around for the next scene and get into another costume, in which she has the tap for several minutes. After a couple of rehearsals, she realised it wasn't working - she couldn't breathe and almost passed out on stage. And the directors' answer to this issue? "Well, you'll just have to deal with it." He has been a complete prick to everybody who has had the decency to ask him about anything - lots of people have changed their costumes without telling anybody and nobody is any wiser. It sucks to be punished for common decency.
Another bad thing that happened was the beginning of what will be an ongoing battle between Regina and I. I think I mentioned her in another post - she considers herself Queen of theatre in our town. In actuality, she is not a particularly good actor, singer or dancer, but people clamour for her attention and approval nonetheless. She only casts her friends and criticises anybody who isn't a friend. Unfortunately, I have managed to capture her ire.
When running through notes after a rehearsal, the director mentioned something about an ensemble reaction (a strategically placed "Awww!"). Clearly, he was wrong.. he was simply missing a part of the script and making a logical jump which didn't make any sense. And I had the gall to challenge him. In the nicest possible way of course. "But Billy is still in disguise at this point and he has just broken up the marriage. Why should this be a good thing? We are still thinking that he's some random Chinese convict bride-stealer?" The director stood there, his mouth gaping open like a stunned mullet. He was wrong, he knew it, he didn't want to admit it. So Regina, who isn't the director, she isn't even in the show, jumped up and started shouting, "Look, this is pathetic. You need to learn to take direction, this is the biggest problem in the show... none of you know how to take direction. This is one of the worst casts ever because you're all so arrogant to assume you can do a better job than him, and you can't." Instead of running out of the room, or crying, or yelling at her and telling her that I hoped she died from syphillis, I simply stood calmly.
The worst part came afterwards. I was waiting to go onstage when she came strolling up behind me - "That wasn't just for you, it was for everybody. But don't ever talk back to your director."
"It was an innocent question and I was right. Everybody knows that I am write, and he hasn't got the guts to admit it."
Regina shrugged, rolled her eyes and stalked off, not before I delivered this line in my most cutting, spiteful voice: "You're not the director, Regina. Get over yourself".
Ooooooh.
It has all been a bit stressful. It's hard to fake such exuberance and absolute frenetic joy onstage when all you want to do is kill people and cry as soon as you get off. But Lucien has been lovely.. he supported me the whole way through and has stood up for me quite a bit. He has dealt with me sobbing hysterically in the pizza restaurant carpack at 1am, struggling like a frantic bird as he tries to calm me down. He has dealt with all the hate flying around backstage and tried as much as he could to shield me from it. It has been lovely, and I haven't always been in the right state to appreciate it, but it has meant a lot to me.
Another thing that has been nice is re-establishing old friendships. Benjamin is becoming a best friend again.. he came over to do some weight training, then we went for dinner at Stalactites last night. Only place open at midnight on a Sunday! I have also made new friends, one in the form of the black-wearing, motorcycle-riding dark shadowy ninja, Seraph. I suppose I should call him by his online handle rather than creating a new psuedonym for him, so Seraph it is. Apparently we met at a particularly geeky gaming cafe two years ago - he remembers it with such clarity, it scared me a little. Lucien took me to the cafe late at night after a rehearsal, and I was wearing a full pink skirt and a pink cardigan. Perfect for hanging with the guys.. *laughs*. Seraph remembered it, and I can vaguely recollect him helping me to play a game while Lucien was neglecting me. Strange.. I was so much younger then, in so many ways, now we've met again.
He took me out during one of the after-show parties for a ride on his motorcycle, which was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. I loved it.. I love the wind whipping around me, the feeling of moving so fast (180kph, don't tell!), and clinging on for dear life, feeling like I was simply going to hit the road at any given corner. It felt like being on a rollercoaster, and I adored it. He is picking me up on Thursday in Melbourne to take me back to our town for the next run of shows.. meaning riding on the highway for more than an hour. I'm so excited.. I want it to be Thursday now!
Unfortunately, making new friends is not without its disadvantages. Theatre people are notorious for the gossip and rumours that can spring from nowhere. Despite making a big show of the fact that I was in fact going on a motorbike for the ride rather than the company (though that was fun too), rumour has started that Seraph and I left the party for a 45 minute long romp in the bushes somewhere. One of my less-liked castmates actually asked me at the next party (it is a long string of parties punctuated by actual shows) if I had fun "bonking on a bike". In front of everybody. Luckily, the absolute spite spreading around the cast has given a good education in preparing razor-sharp retorts, so I gave some cuttingly clever comeback and that was that. I just despise the idea that people think I am as.. well, loose-moralled as a lot of them are. It's funny that there is a very high proportion of Christians in the theatrical circles, considering some of their drunken, vulgar, promiscuous behaviour. And here I am, the atheist who barely drinks and only sleeps with my long-term boyfriend. Go figure.
There are a few more shows to go - one each on Thursday night, Friday night and Saturday afternoon. Then packing up everything in the theatre and more partying. I'm making a concerted effort to be sociable.. I'm usually reknowned in these circles for not turning up to all the parties and post-show 'piss-ups'. I have made an effort this time, but I am yet to see whether it's worth it.
One more week of hyperactivity and then I'm all yours.
Last week was production week, leading up to opening night on Friday. From Tuesday onwards, we worked our butts off every single night from 6pm till 11pm, before getting kicked out of the theatre and having to continue notes and revisions at the local all-nighter pizza place. I would take off my makeup at night and wake up with the horrid oil-based orangey foundation still clinging to my face in the morning, no matter how hard I thought I had scrubbed. It was hellish... especially the absolute bitchiness that was going on backstage constantly. Let the snippets of heaven and hell begin.
The first big issue began when I had a little 'constructive criticism' concerning a costume. Originally I was given a ghastly blue dress full of shoulder pads, then an ugly purple dress I simply could not breathe in, and then.. worst of all, a wine-coloured polyester sack. Literally, this was a drop waisted dress with long sleeves and a high neck, possibly the least flattering thing ever for somebody with a pronounced hourglass shape. The fabric hits the slightest curve on my body and falls straight down.. now it's worse - due to an issue with static electricity, we sprayed it, leaving huge stains. Just peachy.
I brought in a dress that had belonged to my mother; she bought it from an op shop when she was 13, and it is clearly a 1930's dress. It's beautiful - black matte organza with a subtle cream pattern of wisteria, slightly off the shoulder, high waisted, completely sheer (needs a black slip underneath). On all accounts, it was perfect. All accounts except for the costumes ladies who denounced it as 'not the right era'. Hello? It was actually made in the right era, then they handed me that polyester abomination with a dropped waist? That was a hallmark of the 20's.. grrrr.
Eventually I was told to ask the director what he thought of the polyester dress. He basically unloaded on me, saying that I was being ridiculous, precious, I needed to be a team player and get over it. Concluding words: "If you don't wear what you're given, you're out of the show. Simple as that." Bastard..
The worst part is that many people were having issues with their costumes. My friend Carmel, who taps in the show, was asking him if she could wear an alternate costume - her reason was admittedly much better than mine. She has a rather energetic dance in one scene, then has to run off and get changed for the beginning of the very next scene into a heavy full length coat with about 30 buttons down the front. As soon as this short scene is over, she has to run around for the next scene and get into another costume, in which she has the tap for several minutes. After a couple of rehearsals, she realised it wasn't working - she couldn't breathe and almost passed out on stage. And the directors' answer to this issue? "Well, you'll just have to deal with it." He has been a complete prick to everybody who has had the decency to ask him about anything - lots of people have changed their costumes without telling anybody and nobody is any wiser. It sucks to be punished for common decency.
Another bad thing that happened was the beginning of what will be an ongoing battle between Regina and I. I think I mentioned her in another post - she considers herself Queen of theatre in our town. In actuality, she is not a particularly good actor, singer or dancer, but people clamour for her attention and approval nonetheless. She only casts her friends and criticises anybody who isn't a friend. Unfortunately, I have managed to capture her ire.
When running through notes after a rehearsal, the director mentioned something about an ensemble reaction (a strategically placed "Awww!"). Clearly, he was wrong.. he was simply missing a part of the script and making a logical jump which didn't make any sense. And I had the gall to challenge him. In the nicest possible way of course. "But Billy is still in disguise at this point and he has just broken up the marriage. Why should this be a good thing? We are still thinking that he's some random Chinese convict bride-stealer?" The director stood there, his mouth gaping open like a stunned mullet. He was wrong, he knew it, he didn't want to admit it. So Regina, who isn't the director, she isn't even in the show, jumped up and started shouting, "Look, this is pathetic. You need to learn to take direction, this is the biggest problem in the show... none of you know how to take direction. This is one of the worst casts ever because you're all so arrogant to assume you can do a better job than him, and you can't." Instead of running out of the room, or crying, or yelling at her and telling her that I hoped she died from syphillis, I simply stood calmly.
The worst part came afterwards. I was waiting to go onstage when she came strolling up behind me - "That wasn't just for you, it was for everybody. But don't ever talk back to your director."
"It was an innocent question and I was right. Everybody knows that I am write, and he hasn't got the guts to admit it."
Regina shrugged, rolled her eyes and stalked off, not before I delivered this line in my most cutting, spiteful voice: "You're not the director, Regina. Get over yourself".
Ooooooh.
It has all been a bit stressful. It's hard to fake such exuberance and absolute frenetic joy onstage when all you want to do is kill people and cry as soon as you get off. But Lucien has been lovely.. he supported me the whole way through and has stood up for me quite a bit. He has dealt with me sobbing hysterically in the pizza restaurant carpack at 1am, struggling like a frantic bird as he tries to calm me down. He has dealt with all the hate flying around backstage and tried as much as he could to shield me from it. It has been lovely, and I haven't always been in the right state to appreciate it, but it has meant a lot to me.
Another thing that has been nice is re-establishing old friendships. Benjamin is becoming a best friend again.. he came over to do some weight training, then we went for dinner at Stalactites last night. Only place open at midnight on a Sunday! I have also made new friends, one in the form of the black-wearing, motorcycle-riding dark shadowy ninja, Seraph. I suppose I should call him by his online handle rather than creating a new psuedonym for him, so Seraph it is. Apparently we met at a particularly geeky gaming cafe two years ago - he remembers it with such clarity, it scared me a little. Lucien took me to the cafe late at night after a rehearsal, and I was wearing a full pink skirt and a pink cardigan. Perfect for hanging with the guys.. *laughs*. Seraph remembered it, and I can vaguely recollect him helping me to play a game while Lucien was neglecting me. Strange.. I was so much younger then, in so many ways, now we've met again.
He took me out during one of the after-show parties for a ride on his motorcycle, which was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. I loved it.. I love the wind whipping around me, the feeling of moving so fast (180kph, don't tell!), and clinging on for dear life, feeling like I was simply going to hit the road at any given corner. It felt like being on a rollercoaster, and I adored it. He is picking me up on Thursday in Melbourne to take me back to our town for the next run of shows.. meaning riding on the highway for more than an hour. I'm so excited.. I want it to be Thursday now!
Unfortunately, making new friends is not without its disadvantages. Theatre people are notorious for the gossip and rumours that can spring from nowhere. Despite making a big show of the fact that I was in fact going on a motorbike for the ride rather than the company (though that was fun too), rumour has started that Seraph and I left the party for a 45 minute long romp in the bushes somewhere. One of my less-liked castmates actually asked me at the next party (it is a long string of parties punctuated by actual shows) if I had fun "bonking on a bike". In front of everybody. Luckily, the absolute spite spreading around the cast has given a good education in preparing razor-sharp retorts, so I gave some cuttingly clever comeback and that was that. I just despise the idea that people think I am as.. well, loose-moralled as a lot of them are. It's funny that there is a very high proportion of Christians in the theatrical circles, considering some of their drunken, vulgar, promiscuous behaviour. And here I am, the atheist who barely drinks and only sleeps with my long-term boyfriend. Go figure.
There are a few more shows to go - one each on Thursday night, Friday night and Saturday afternoon. Then packing up everything in the theatre and more partying. I'm making a concerted effort to be sociable.. I'm usually reknowned in these circles for not turning up to all the parties and post-show 'piss-ups'. I have made an effort this time, but I am yet to see whether it's worth it.
One more week of hyperactivity and then I'm all yours.
Saturday, October 7
Tower of Pisa
Leaning dangerously to one side, increasing the likelihood of a tumble each second. Lurching ominously, because the foundations are shifting and sinking beneath her. One day she will fall, and everybody will suddenly jump up and say, "Damn. I should have seen it coming."
Being cryptic.
Anything Goes opens next week, Friday 13th (ha). Call 5225 1200 for tickets if you want to come. Feel like spending $30 to watch good (debatable) theatre? If that phone number looks nonsensical to you, then you are probably too far away from the theatre to actually come, so don't worry about it! As for me, I'm barely in the show, so it's probably not a very good exercise in stalking.
Enough. iLectures to listen to and essays to write.
Being cryptic.
Anything Goes opens next week, Friday 13th (ha). Call 5225 1200 for tickets if you want to come. Feel like spending $30 to watch good (debatable) theatre? If that phone number looks nonsensical to you, then you are probably too far away from the theatre to actually come, so don't worry about it! As for me, I'm barely in the show, so it's probably not a very good exercise in stalking.
Enough. iLectures to listen to and essays to write.
Sunday, September 24
Wishing and Hoping
Ahhhh! I just got back from a gruelling 6 hours of rehearsing in a draughty shed where it would have been lucky to be 10°C. It wasn't very nice, and it was so far away from any sort of retail strip that I couldn't just run out in the rain during our 5 minute break for food. But oh, how wonderful!
Today I got to play Hope. Hope Harcourt, the debutante is the role in Anything Goes that I have been understudying since the rehearsal period started in July. It has been ridiculously bad - travelling back and forth between Melbourne and rehearsals three times a week for practically nothing. As the understudy, that means I can't have a very good role in the rest of the show unless I have to be pulled out to play my character instead. But now suddenly, it's worth something.
I knew every line, I sang every song (even though I was gasping and coughing whenever I wasn't on stage), I even danced the entire Delovely dance without missing a step. It was great.. I was so surprised at myself, I haven't really acted in anything for a long time. University and VCE got in the way, as much as I hated it, and this is reminding me how much I adore it. Lots of people commented on how surprised they were on how much work I'd put into it and the director came up and told me I was doing a 'beautiful' job. Tremendously exciting - what was even better was seeing all the committee members watching me. They are the people who prevented me getting the actual role, because I wasn't experienced enough, and now they're seeing me doing an awesome job. So HA! Give me a role in the next show!
Sorry, I'm just so happy and excited and glad and relieved... more updates soon! I have to do the same thing again on Tuesday and Thursday!
Today I got to play Hope. Hope Harcourt, the debutante is the role in Anything Goes that I have been understudying since the rehearsal period started in July. It has been ridiculously bad - travelling back and forth between Melbourne and rehearsals three times a week for practically nothing. As the understudy, that means I can't have a very good role in the rest of the show unless I have to be pulled out to play my character instead. But now suddenly, it's worth something.
I knew every line, I sang every song (even though I was gasping and coughing whenever I wasn't on stage), I even danced the entire Delovely dance without missing a step. It was great.. I was so surprised at myself, I haven't really acted in anything for a long time. University and VCE got in the way, as much as I hated it, and this is reminding me how much I adore it. Lots of people commented on how surprised they were on how much work I'd put into it and the director came up and told me I was doing a 'beautiful' job. Tremendously exciting - what was even better was seeing all the committee members watching me. They are the people who prevented me getting the actual role, because I wasn't experienced enough, and now they're seeing me doing an awesome job. So HA! Give me a role in the next show!
Sorry, I'm just so happy and excited and glad and relieved... more updates soon! I have to do the same thing again on Tuesday and Thursday!
Sunday, September 10
Gone Through Brimstone, And I've Been Through The Fire
Today was ridiculous. By ridiculous, I don't mean ironic or strangely amusing. I mean it was downright ridiculously annoying, frustrating and an absolute waste of time. I suppose it was absurd. I'm not a happy girl.
It's funny how when you're on stage, it is possibly one of the most glamorous things ever. You're dripping in red lipstick, sparkling like a diamond and singing your heart out. Today was not glamorous. My legs and feet are killing me from teetering on stilettos ALL day. I'm covered in red marks from being poked and prodded and accidentally impaled on safety pins. I feel under-appreciated and exploited.. and it's just about to get a whole lot worse.
Today we had the costume call, makeup workshop and citzprobe for Anything Goes. Some definitions are in order:
Costume Call - putting on your various costumes in order of scenes and then standing in a long line. One at a time you are asked to step forward, do a twirl and then stand there for five minutes while the directors loudly scrutinize you. "No, it's too tight around her bust. That colour makes him look like he has jaundice. Can we find something that doesn't make her look like an elephant?" are commonly heard comments, along with being yelled at for pairing a white hat with a cream belt, black shoes with navy gloves, not wearing your pants on your waist, etc. Imagine doing that for 3 and a half hours, whilst starving, sleepy and freezing cold. Seeing so many other girls naked made me feel like a concentration camp inmate.
Makeup Workshop - being told what I already know. Sure, it's valuable for the newbies and for the dancers, but do I really need to sit on a cold, hard wooden floor for hours watching someone put on makeup and contradicting themselves whenever they are asked a question about style and the 1930's?
Citzprobe - this one isn't actually so bad; usually it's one of my favourite parts of the rehearsal period. Basically, it's a sit down and sing with the orchestra... which is usually enjoyable. Not so enjoyable when you have a gaggle of male tappers sitting behind you banging their feet on the floor whilst sitting down. I glared at them and told them off, which has now confirmed my 'bitch' status in the cast. I know it's amateur theatre, but that doesn't mean that we shouldn't behave professionally. Then Regina turned up. She's generally considered the Queen Bitch of theatre in my town, and she's not even in the show - she just came along to be a brat, smoke, drink coffee and annoy people. Grr!
So all in all, the 7 hours spent today achieved very little. My costumes are.. let's not even talk about that. The Nazi costume designers jumped on everything and now I have a completely new wardrobe for the show. My evening wear looks like an ugly mauve (least favourite colour EVER) curtain from the '70s, and the costume ladies had the gall to take my hat (one that actually belongs to me) and plonk it on somebody elses' head. It seems like they're on a mission to make me as look as ugly as possible. Oh well, I actually own a beautiful original 1930's black dress that I'm going to wear for the evening scenes, whether they like it or not.
Here is the moment where I take a deep breath. And continue!
Things were winding up when some scuffle erupted outside the sound studio - I'm not even sure what happened as I was inside talking to Annie-Mae (the girl I'm understudying), but it involved Ross running up behind Lucien and punching him in the head. Lucien swiftly brought Ross to the ground (not injuring him, but just 'apprehending' him), to which Regina said, "Well done Ross, who hasn't wanted to punch him?". It was surreal - these theatre people have previously been like a family of great friends to me. Now suddenly civil war was breaking out among the ranks.
We left quickly and I decided, spur of the moment, to go on a mini-adventure with Benjamin and Drake (Lucien couldn't come - he was too furious, so he went home). It started out alright - shooting down the highway in a cool British car with sports car suspension, listening to extremely bad quality AM radio, Drake smoking and yelling at other drivers in his carefully cultivated quasi-English queer accent, Benjamin spitting out innuendo about me and all the dancers in our itty-bitty costumes. We were following a car that had two of the tappers from the show in it; they promised us some kind of fun, so we chased the opportunity. We got to our destination and managed to sneak past the ticket desk, avoiding paying a $6 (ha!) ticket price, and I found myself at the dancing section of an Eisteddfod. Eek.
We sat through an hour and a half of amateur ballerinas doing nothing of consequence in pretty tutus. It was possibly the most boring thing on a stage that I have willingly put myself through. Don't get me wrong, I adore going to the ballet, but this was just boring. These girls had fabulous technique and they smiled a lot, and hell, they even kept dancing in time when their cds skipped, but it was just boring. Dancing isn't just about being able to do it, it's also about creating engaging choreography that tells a story and being able to act it convincingly. These were just pretty young women jumping about, occasionally pirouetting, do lots of relevés and smiling so much that their faces hurt.
The interesting part came when the tapping troupe section came on. There were two groups from the dance school which is 'home base' for a lot of the dancers in Anything Goes. I suppose that by supporting them I was at least trying to be amiable and friendly. We watched, and finally, there was some diversity and passion. We saw girls in black and white with tilted hats, scarlet showgirls, what looked like the cast of a Gap commercial, black and silver showgirls, purple showgirls, golden showgirls. Etc. You get the idea - the average female costume consisted of a leotard with several kilos of sequins, fishnet stockings, tap shoes and some sort of hat or feathery thing in their hair.
In the end it was quite good - I think the tappers thought a lot more about their choreography than the ballerinas did. I enjoyed it, but *sigh* - the rest of the day seems like the ultimate waste of time, energy, emotions. Not a happy girl.
It's funny how when you're on stage, it is possibly one of the most glamorous things ever. You're dripping in red lipstick, sparkling like a diamond and singing your heart out. Today was not glamorous. My legs and feet are killing me from teetering on stilettos ALL day. I'm covered in red marks from being poked and prodded and accidentally impaled on safety pins. I feel under-appreciated and exploited.. and it's just about to get a whole lot worse.
Today we had the costume call, makeup workshop and citzprobe for Anything Goes. Some definitions are in order:
Costume Call - putting on your various costumes in order of scenes and then standing in a long line. One at a time you are asked to step forward, do a twirl and then stand there for five minutes while the directors loudly scrutinize you. "No, it's too tight around her bust. That colour makes him look like he has jaundice. Can we find something that doesn't make her look like an elephant?" are commonly heard comments, along with being yelled at for pairing a white hat with a cream belt, black shoes with navy gloves, not wearing your pants on your waist, etc. Imagine doing that for 3 and a half hours, whilst starving, sleepy and freezing cold. Seeing so many other girls naked made me feel like a concentration camp inmate.
Makeup Workshop - being told what I already know. Sure, it's valuable for the newbies and for the dancers, but do I really need to sit on a cold, hard wooden floor for hours watching someone put on makeup and contradicting themselves whenever they are asked a question about style and the 1930's?
Citzprobe - this one isn't actually so bad; usually it's one of my favourite parts of the rehearsal period. Basically, it's a sit down and sing with the orchestra... which is usually enjoyable. Not so enjoyable when you have a gaggle of male tappers sitting behind you banging their feet on the floor whilst sitting down. I glared at them and told them off, which has now confirmed my 'bitch' status in the cast. I know it's amateur theatre, but that doesn't mean that we shouldn't behave professionally. Then Regina turned up. She's generally considered the Queen Bitch of theatre in my town, and she's not even in the show - she just came along to be a brat, smoke, drink coffee and annoy people. Grr!
So all in all, the 7 hours spent today achieved very little. My costumes are.. let's not even talk about that. The Nazi costume designers jumped on everything and now I have a completely new wardrobe for the show. My evening wear looks like an ugly mauve (least favourite colour EVER) curtain from the '70s, and the costume ladies had the gall to take my hat (one that actually belongs to me) and plonk it on somebody elses' head. It seems like they're on a mission to make me as look as ugly as possible. Oh well, I actually own a beautiful original 1930's black dress that I'm going to wear for the evening scenes, whether they like it or not.
Here is the moment where I take a deep breath. And continue!
Things were winding up when some scuffle erupted outside the sound studio - I'm not even sure what happened as I was inside talking to Annie-Mae (the girl I'm understudying), but it involved Ross running up behind Lucien and punching him in the head. Lucien swiftly brought Ross to the ground (not injuring him, but just 'apprehending' him), to which Regina said, "Well done Ross, who hasn't wanted to punch him?". It was surreal - these theatre people have previously been like a family of great friends to me. Now suddenly civil war was breaking out among the ranks.
We left quickly and I decided, spur of the moment, to go on a mini-adventure with Benjamin and Drake (Lucien couldn't come - he was too furious, so he went home). It started out alright - shooting down the highway in a cool British car with sports car suspension, listening to extremely bad quality AM radio, Drake smoking and yelling at other drivers in his carefully cultivated quasi-English queer accent, Benjamin spitting out innuendo about me and all the dancers in our itty-bitty costumes. We were following a car that had two of the tappers from the show in it; they promised us some kind of fun, so we chased the opportunity. We got to our destination and managed to sneak past the ticket desk, avoiding paying a $6 (ha!) ticket price, and I found myself at the dancing section of an Eisteddfod. Eek.
We sat through an hour and a half of amateur ballerinas doing nothing of consequence in pretty tutus. It was possibly the most boring thing on a stage that I have willingly put myself through. Don't get me wrong, I adore going to the ballet, but this was just boring. These girls had fabulous technique and they smiled a lot, and hell, they even kept dancing in time when their cds skipped, but it was just boring. Dancing isn't just about being able to do it, it's also about creating engaging choreography that tells a story and being able to act it convincingly. These were just pretty young women jumping about, occasionally pirouetting, do lots of relevés and smiling so much that their faces hurt.
The interesting part came when the tapping troupe section came on. There were two groups from the dance school which is 'home base' for a lot of the dancers in Anything Goes. I suppose that by supporting them I was at least trying to be amiable and friendly. We watched, and finally, there was some diversity and passion. We saw girls in black and white with tilted hats, scarlet showgirls, what looked like the cast of a Gap commercial, black and silver showgirls, purple showgirls, golden showgirls. Etc. You get the idea - the average female costume consisted of a leotard with several kilos of sequins, fishnet stockings, tap shoes and some sort of hat or feathery thing in their hair.
In the end it was quite good - I think the tappers thought a lot more about their choreography than the ballerinas did. I enjoyed it, but *sigh* - the rest of the day seems like the ultimate waste of time, energy, emotions. Not a happy girl.
Tuesday, August 22
The Height of Dorkiness
It just started raining! I was so over-excited that I typed this into my browser - http://www.blogger.com!
Alas, Firefox didn't quite share my enthusiasm for the exclamation mark...
But why am I so excited about it raining? Because the seasons are changing. Instead of it being bitterly cold icy rain, it's actually kind of nice.. the most subtle reminder that summer is coming.
Ahh, auditions for Beauty and the Beast are coming up soon. It's ridiculous - by the time they actually arrive, I will have been working myself up into a frenzy for so long that I'm bound to blow it. I am aiming for the role of Belle, and it's definitely a long shot. Song choice is bothering me though - if there are any musical theatrical people out there, help me out! I have narrowed it down to "The Beauty Is" from The Light in the Piazza, or "Meadowlark" from The Baker's Wife. The first one I suppose is better for showing off my upper range, but the second one has a lot more scope for emotional intensity.Can't decide... head exploded! Maybe I should just rehearse the living daylights out of both, then choose impulsively when I get in there.
The Onion would have to be one of my favourite websites, and this article was just priceless. Such seriousness!
Oh, another plug -
Jason turned me on to this - freaky little puppet man making a 'beat'. It's strangely hypnotic. Check it out!
Alas, Firefox didn't quite share my enthusiasm for the exclamation mark...
But why am I so excited about it raining? Because the seasons are changing. Instead of it being bitterly cold icy rain, it's actually kind of nice.. the most subtle reminder that summer is coming.
Ahh, auditions for Beauty and the Beast are coming up soon. It's ridiculous - by the time they actually arrive, I will have been working myself up into a frenzy for so long that I'm bound to blow it. I am aiming for the role of Belle, and it's definitely a long shot. Song choice is bothering me though - if there are any musical theatrical people out there, help me out! I have narrowed it down to "The Beauty Is" from The Light in the Piazza, or "Meadowlark" from The Baker's Wife. The first one I suppose is better for showing off my upper range, but the second one has a lot more scope for emotional intensity.Can't decide... head exploded! Maybe I should just rehearse the living daylights out of both, then choose impulsively when I get in there.
The Onion would have to be one of my favourite websites, and this article was just priceless. Such seriousness!
Oh, another plug -
Jason turned me on to this - freaky little puppet man making a 'beat'. It's strangely hypnotic. Check it out!
Monday, August 21
A 'Sigh' Kind of Moment
It's almost 2am and I'm still up and about. Freezing cold to the point where I can't quite feel my hands and feet. And I am listening the Mozart's Requiem on repeat - a surefire way to put myself in a melancholic mood. Why am I doing this to myself? I'm not sure, but it will definitely be bedtime soon, simply so I don't get sicker from being in the cold. Sleep would be nice, but I can't depend on getting any.
Rehearsals for Anything Goes are going nicely for most of those involved. We practiced a big ensemble number (I'd never learnt it before, but it was easy enough to pick up), but of course, something managed to go wrong. Feeling dizzy and somewhat nauseous from the medication that is supposed to be making me better, I fell off a chair that I was dancing on as I did a turn. Great fun. It wasn't too bad, some dancers managed to sort of catch me before I hit the ground.
Despite that, the day redeemed itself by offering some costume fittings. It's silly, but trying on costumes is possibly one of my favourite parts of the rehearsal process. And today's outfits were no exception. I have three costumes in the show - two daywear ensembles and an evening gown. I have only been fitted for the first two costumes so far - I'll describe them!
The first dress is a delightful little white dress, mid-calf length with a dropped waist. It has a navy blue band around the hips and some nice navy bands along the oversized collar. Basically, think cute sailor. I'll have to find a hat to go with this outfit, it's tremendously cute.
The second dress is red with tiny little white polka dots. It's longer, with a white sort of frill around the hem. The sleeves are tiny little buttoned-up things that look oh so elegant. It buttons up at the front and has a little white belt. I adore it!
I'm really really *really* hoping for a little red flapper dress for the second act.
There will definitely be some pictures coming.
I promised last post that I would enlighten you a little about this idea of 'tribes'. Well, it began when I met possibly one of the most wonderful, interesting, beautiful and magical friends of all time. We have fallen out of contact for the moment, but I just know we will meet up again one day. Anyway, this delightful individual was my Year 11 Drama teacher. Ophelia. She became a best friend for Louise and I, someone who we would jump at any opportunity to spend time with. One day, she told us of tribes - she confided in us because she just knew that we were from the same tribe. You know how people often say that soulmates are when a single soul dwells in two bodies? A tribe is like that, but on such a larger scale. Not all of the tribes are the same size, nor do the tribe's members have to be romantically in love in the same way as is expected of soulmates. It is just people who 'understand' each other on a scale that is barely tangible, people with that magical magnetism towards each other for reasons they can't comprehend - almost like there is a common element to unite a tribe, with a shard of it dwelling within each person...
This probably makes no sense. I think I'll have to draw a picture.
For the record, Lucien and I decided that we are from different tribes, but tribes which complement each other wonderfully.
Erk, it comes the time to go to bed. But not before the compulsory plug - Julian Nation. A lovely singer-songwriter I know. He's recently received some airplay on Triple J and FBi radio in Sydney, and just released his album "We Are All Writers" - available at Polyester on Brunswick Street or via www.bookclubrecords.com/. You know you want to! He's lovely.
Goodnight moon.
Rehearsals for Anything Goes are going nicely for most of those involved. We practiced a big ensemble number (I'd never learnt it before, but it was easy enough to pick up), but of course, something managed to go wrong. Feeling dizzy and somewhat nauseous from the medication that is supposed to be making me better, I fell off a chair that I was dancing on as I did a turn. Great fun. It wasn't too bad, some dancers managed to sort of catch me before I hit the ground.
Despite that, the day redeemed itself by offering some costume fittings. It's silly, but trying on costumes is possibly one of my favourite parts of the rehearsal process. And today's outfits were no exception. I have three costumes in the show - two daywear ensembles and an evening gown. I have only been fitted for the first two costumes so far - I'll describe them!
The first dress is a delightful little white dress, mid-calf length with a dropped waist. It has a navy blue band around the hips and some nice navy bands along the oversized collar. Basically, think cute sailor. I'll have to find a hat to go with this outfit, it's tremendously cute.
The second dress is red with tiny little white polka dots. It's longer, with a white sort of frill around the hem. The sleeves are tiny little buttoned-up things that look oh so elegant. It buttons up at the front and has a little white belt. I adore it!
I'm really really *really* hoping for a little red flapper dress for the second act.
There will definitely be some pictures coming.
I promised last post that I would enlighten you a little about this idea of 'tribes'. Well, it began when I met possibly one of the most wonderful, interesting, beautiful and magical friends of all time. We have fallen out of contact for the moment, but I just know we will meet up again one day. Anyway, this delightful individual was my Year 11 Drama teacher. Ophelia. She became a best friend for Louise and I, someone who we would jump at any opportunity to spend time with. One day, she told us of tribes - she confided in us because she just knew that we were from the same tribe. You know how people often say that soulmates are when a single soul dwells in two bodies? A tribe is like that, but on such a larger scale. Not all of the tribes are the same size, nor do the tribe's members have to be romantically in love in the same way as is expected of soulmates. It is just people who 'understand' each other on a scale that is barely tangible, people with that magical magnetism towards each other for reasons they can't comprehend - almost like there is a common element to unite a tribe, with a shard of it dwelling within each person...
This probably makes no sense. I think I'll have to draw a picture.
For the record, Lucien and I decided that we are from different tribes, but tribes which complement each other wonderfully.
Erk, it comes the time to go to bed. But not before the compulsory plug - Julian Nation. A lovely singer-songwriter I know. He's recently received some airplay on Triple J and FBi radio in Sydney, and just released his album "We Are All Writers" - available at Polyester on Brunswick Street or via www.bookclubrecords.com/. You know you want to! He's lovely.
Goodnight moon.
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