Pain scale.

I love XKCD.  They hit the nail on the head so often.  And I about died when I saw this one.  See, I was just in the doctor's office for an ear infection on Thursday and she asked me to rate the pain on a scale from one to ten.  I said eight.  Then I thought about it.  I've broken my toe and that was excruciating.  I've had a root canal on a live tooth.  *shudder*  I've woken up from a surgery during which they've sliced open my abdomen and spread apart my rib cage...  After thinking about this for a minute, I turned to her and said, "You know, like an eight as far as ear infections go.  It's not really all that bad..."

Speaking of that particular appointment, I learned that I have this thing called bullous myringitis.  I will spare you most of the details on that, 'cause it's gross.  Anyway, the doc looks in my ear and says, "Oh, wow..."  I've gotten a little desensitized to this kind of a reaction given the fiasco that occurred two years ago.  I ask her what's wrong and she just looks at me and says, "Can I have the other doctors come in and look at your ear?  It's just that, you never really see a good example of this outside a textbook."  *sigh*  I guess if I'm gonna be a medical wreck, I may as well be a learning experience. 

Things I REALLY wish teenagers understood about auditions.

So, I decided to hop off and watch Footloose auditions on Tuesday and teacher-me kicked in wanting to fix so many little problems I saw...couple of issues with that, though; 1. I'm not their teacher and 2. in order to illustrate why they shouldn't do some of these things, I'd have to use some teaching unfriendly language.  Therefore, I'm gonna put it on the internet where I will not be fired for saying such things and hopefully, this'll help at least one someone out there.  There are three lists.  The first is a list of things that I used to think were common sense and maybe just hadn't floated into the heads of these kiddos.  The second is just a few singing tips that are a lot easier said than done.  The third is a few voiced irritations toward the behind-the-scenes people.  Here goes...

List One: Wow, the lights are really bright, aren't they?

1. For those of you whose largest stage debut to date was in the school's gymacafetorium, let me tell you something: stage lights are bright.  Blindingly so.  That's where all those cliched phrases about actors getting lost in the blinding lights came from.  (Ugh.)  Now that you know this, there's really no need to mention it to the people you're auditioning for.  Chances are they know it.  And when you hear the phrase, "Wow!  Those are really bright lights!" from 60 different kids, it can get very taxing on the nerves. 
2. Wear nice clothes.  It makes you look like you care.  And take off your damn hat.
3. If you bring a CD to sing with, for the love of all that is right in the world, make sure it's actually a karaoke track.  If I can't hear you over Journey, I can't tell how well you can sing.  It also says that you probably can't hold your own with a chorus behind you.  Neither of those are a good sign for a director.
4. Do NOT injure yourself during the dance audition.  I don't care how cute or cool the move you just did was.  A cool dance move is so not worth having a gimped character for the rest of the show.
5. Allright, this one isn't necessarily common sense, but it needs to be said.  Ladies, do not toss your hair every five minutes.  To the casting committee it makes you look nervous, fidget-y, and not in control of your body.  To the other female auditioners, it just makes you look like a stuck up bitch.  Hopefully, neither of those sentences is true of you and you don't want to be perceived as such. 

List Two: The walls make for a good audience, I promise.

1. If you are going to bring sheet music, try very hard to find a copy with the chord changes written above the measures.  (They're the things that look a little like this: Gm7, BbM+6...stuff like that.)  It helps the accompanist fake their way through your song if the written notes are really hard to play without lots of practice. 
2. On that note, when you've got an accompanist whose sight reading your music, things might not go perfectly like you'd like them.  Don't freak out and DON'T try to make it look like everything's the piano player's fault.  It's in your best interest to know your song backwards and forwards and plow through when things go awry.
3. Did I mention practice?  Practice.  When you're done practicing, get a captive audience and sing some more.  Sing to the wall, sing in front of a mirror, sing for your friends...what-have-you.  Most people who work in music have magic powers that allow us to be able to tell the difference between a nervous brain spasm and I'm-so-awesome-I-don't-need-to-practice syndrome.  The latter is soooo not endearing.
4. Breathe, but not too much.  You know when you speak and you just naturally breathe where commas and periods would fall if what you said were written?  It's the same things with singing.  Breathe where the commas and periods are and you'll be allright.  If that doesn't quite feel right, say the words out loud as though you were speaking to a friend and make a note of where you took breaths.
5. Chill out.  Natural you will always be better than overacting you.
6. This may be difficult for you to know the difference, but please pick a song that is in your comfortable singing range.  You may have picked a song that you like, but if you can't hit some of the notes because they're too low or high, it sounds bad; you'll normally end up either cutting out in those spots or singing wonky notes.  And while a seasoned musician will be able to tell that that's what the problem is, we're still stuck with the issue that you sang something out of your range and we didn't get to hear what you sound like in your range.  Essentially, we don't know what you sound like and that makes it hard to give you a role. 
7. Gentlemen, there is nothing wrong with singing in your upper register.  Just because you're not a low, growl-y bass, doesn't mean you're not manly.  Hell, tenors are hot and the majority of musical theatre roles are written for them, not the basses.

List Three: It is just never okay.

1. If you're going to cut a person of in the middle of their song, please at least wait untill a cadence.  It is irritating and jarring to get cut off smack in the middle and because of how we're trained with music in modern society, it actually makes the person singing feel like they've done poorly to be cut off so unceremoniously.
2. Being a choreographer does NOT give you free license to be a raging bitch.  Being a director or member of the production staff doesn't either, but this seems to be a pretty common choregrapher character flaw.  Theatre is a professional community and that means it is built upon respect.  You have to show your performers the same amount of respect you expect them to show you regardless of age or skill level.  I've had really nice and awesome choreographers take uncoordinated people like me and turn them into a spinning, awesome-looking, dance-y thing.  Respectful choreographers (and directors, stage managers, etc.) get their performers to learn steps quicker and better.  The bitchy ones get ignored and argued with.  I mean, really, you're only making more work for yourself.  Especially with teenagers!  What, do you have a death wish or something?  An adult is going to write a letter of complaint or something reasonable like that when you suck; a teenager's gonna put krazy glue in your socks.  Choose wisely. 
3. Parents.  Chill out.  Chill out, chill out, chill out.  You're making everyone crazy.  Sit in the back, watch politely, keep your comments to yourself, and after it's all over, tell your kid he/she did a good job. 

Really, after all of that, I guess the important bit is to not get discouraged by stuff and keep auditioning.  Practice makes perfect and what-all. 

Bits and Pieces

My brain is just beyond scattered at work and over the past week I've collected an odd mix of thoughts and events and I just need to write them down to get them out of my head. 

I have a great deal of trouble making eye contact with someone in an involved conversation.  I really hope people don't think I'm bored or ignoring them - most of the time, I am listening intently - but I think I'm focusing so damn hard that my multitasking brain short circuits or something.  It's like trying to block out all of the minor distractions just makes them worse. 

I've been thinking a lot about shoes lately.  Yes, shoes.  Spurred mainly by a conversation about how children don't wear loafers ever under any circumstances.  Anyway, shoes really can say an awful lot about a person.  My favourite pair of shoes are special edition fair trade green chuck taylors with silhouettes of trees printed on the side that I bought from a thrift store.  If that doesn't say something about me, I don't know what does. 

There's a lady who comes into the lab who likes to talk to herself...a lot.  She's generally pretty harmless, but today, after loitering at the scanner for about half an hour, she walked by my desk and gave me a mean, threating, contemptuous sort of look.  I have this bad habit of looking up from my desk and smiling at people, which only made things worse.  As she started to walk off, I heard her mutter to her imaginary friend, "...probably accused of murder too."  o.O

My addiction to sour cherry flavoured candies is likely a bad thing.

Every few weeks or so I go through one of these bizarre desperate-need-to-self-improve sort of phases that often involves changing how I react to things or what I think of people or what have you.  Recently, however, I came to the conclusion that there would be no need for me to change anything about myself if I could just learn to not say the thoughts in my head aloud. 

Somewhere, someone in the world, someone is listening to Sibelius and it's his fault the weather's like this. 

I spend a lot of time oblivious to social cues and such things, but man, the amount of people who have no sense of decorum or manners is just staggering.

As I am numbering the measures in my Rachmaninov Vespers, a patron asks, "What instrument do you play?"  "I sing."  "You know, some people say that the voice is the original instrument.  Do you believe that?  I would've thought it was the drum."  "Maybe, but I think people probably learned how to scream before they learned how to hit things."

Things are more impressive looking when they're in a different alphabet.

Having a ruptured eardrum is a lot like living inside a honkytonk piano; things echo at inappropriate times, everything is just slightly out of tune, and it's impossible to hear clearly anyone talking.

I very much need to go on a road trip.

Getting Over It.

In short version news, attempt no. 73 at learning to stop biting my nails is going pretty well and my new job is awesome.

In long version, I've been thinking and evaluating a lot lately.  I have two issues I've been dealing with and one of them I've sort of figured out and the other is just probably going to stick around for awhile.  The latter is just that I'm lonely and I apparently became a coward at some point.  I've been working on psyching myself up to making a move in a direction for a few weeks and no amount of support and logic seems to be enough to push me in that direction.  So, I think things are going to stay that way for awhile.  Maybe resigning myself to such a thing will irritate me enough that I'll break the pattern.

I've also been struggling with authority lately.  The sentence "Power does not equate knowledge and experience." comes to mind.  The overarching theme of that particular thought has plagued me for most of my life.  I'm always finding myself in situations where I think, why on earth are you in charge of this nonsense and did you even think before you started doling out orders that make no sense?  Normally, I'm pretty complacent in situations such as these just as long the person in question is nice or personable.  When you start making decisions that hurt or upset me or others, I pretty much fly off the handle internally. 

I've been stuck in this situation for the past two weeks and it's been making me miserable.  My friends have helped by allowing me to hash things out and stress and I didn't have to worry about rumours getting thrown about as a result.  Trust me, adding that to my already visible disdain would be the opposite of helpful.  The other bit that helped is me finally centering on the fact that knowledge and experience does not equate power.  We've all had those moments where we look at what's going on and say, "I could do this better.  My ideas make more sense," but the thing of it is that that's not what gets you in a position where you're in charge.  So, in this situation, I have two options: either get willing to play the local politics or shut up and deal with it.  Guess which option I'm going with...

Making a list.

So for some awkward reason, becoming an adult to me means living in a place that doesn't perpetually look like a dorm room...in essence, I'm prematurely decorating my flat.

Dishes (Yeah I know.  Wal*Mart, but I love these dishes.  So, shhh.)
Bedset
Silverware
Electric Mixer (Red is important to me, I guess.  In a perfect world, all my appliances will match.  Black, red and silver.)
Blender
Toaster
Microwave
Bath Set (No toothbrush holder or soap dish.)
Towels

Yes, I know.  No furniture...  I think I'm going to refinish what I already have and do the rest IKEA style.  Maybe I'll add to this as I go.

On a side, how pathetic am I for doing this and watching chick flicks on a Friday night, eh?  Pff...I need to quit hanging out on weekdays, surely.

Letters to a Faceless Audience - Part II

1: Zut tu d'avoir été si irrésistible et si loin de moi.

2: Zut tu d'être si merveilleux et si près de moi.

3: Dans une autre vie, peut-être.

4: Je crains que je n'ai pas dit félicitations correctement; je le pense vraiment et je tu souhaites tout le meilleur.

5: Tu, monsieur, es le meilleur ami que j'ai jamais eu. Je ne peux même pas commencer à imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi.

1: Tu es une dépendance assez difficile à franchir et je ne voudrais pas avoir une autre façon.

6: KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN.

4: Nous aurons gâteau.

2: Est-il si difficile de comprendre que je préférerais tu heureuse, plutôt que de tu appartene à moi?

1: Qu'est ce que tu jusqu'à l'été prochain, hein? ^-~

When I Grow Up...

...and if.

So, with the Jacoby competition looming, I was asked, about a week ago, for a program interview, "What are you going to do after college?"

What?

Let me address the nature of this question real quickly... When did the question change from "what do you want to do" to "what are you going to do"? Honestly. How could I possibly know? This question keeps coming up as of late and everytime I resist the urge to say, "I plan on floundering about for awhile, wandering the country, and learning how to cope with life without my support structure of friends I've garnered over the past six years and I plan on doing this all while trying to scrape up a job that will afford me enough income to survive, whatever that may be."

Yeah. That's right. I don't have a clue.

The idea of always having a set plan for the future kind of irks me. More so now that I am nearing the end of my education degree. Yes, it's nice to have it in your mind that you're going places, but at the sake of sanity? When I was preparing for my high school graduation, I was bombarded with questions of where I would attend college, what I would learn there, what my career path was, and the like. It was ridiculous because I had no idea. I applied to so many different colleges and for so many different programs. I wanted to be an opera singer, a chef, a lawyer, a writer, a computer technician, a set designer, a teacher, and several things in between. I changed my major four times when I got to this university and I'm still not certain I picked the perfect one. How can we expect younger students to have a life plan when so few of the upcoming graduating class have one of their own?

That being said, I've developed a theory that it's more important to set small life goals that will inevitably make you a better person. You know, things that make you happy. They're easier to define, easier to attain, and less likely to uproot your entire life when they must change.

When I grow up, I want to grow fresh herbs in a garden outside my house. I want to cook a good meal for dinner at least once a week. I want to write something every weekend. I want to go see live music as often as I can. I want to read all the books my father has told me I should. I want to take time to sing every day. I want to have a career that doesn't make me hate myself. I want to keep my home clean. I want to be married, but mostly for the sake of throwing a huge party; sharing a life with someone doesn't require marriage. I want to do karaoke every now and again. I want to adopt a kid...when I'm ready to support a kid. I want to garner a collection of fantastic recipes that rival those of my parents and grandparents to pass down the line. I want to drink more water. I want to audition for things even if I am frightened. I want to have a nice car. I want to have an impact, no matter how small, on someone.

Well, there it is. I don't know what else to say about this barrage of thoughts that attacked my brain. I guess I've just been all sorts of contemplative as of late.

Jacoby went extremely well, by the way. I'll post a recording as soon as I get it for those of you who missed the concert.

A bientôt!