"And it began to rain. Oh, we were dancing, mouths open, splashing tongue taste. For a moment, this good time would never end."

So. I'm a little "off" lately. It all started when I was on Instant Messenger talking to Tom. I wanted to tell him I was eating cereal and I typed out, "This sirial is really good." Thankfully, I caught it before I sent it. I think we know that my life is in severe disorder when I lose my grip on my spelling and grammar. SIRIAL!? That's not even, God. Forget it. (This also paints quite the pathetic picture without the spelling error because, you do realize that I spend my time IMing my cousin about which cereal I'm eating. We all acknowledge this is...sad, don't we?)

I like to keep the acting part of my life separate from here but I can't take it anymore. Why keep up the charade? Can I just tell you I had THE WORST AUDITION OF MY LIFE TODAY!??????????? I think it was compounded by a few factors:

1) This freaking noreaster rain

b) The fact that I have a fever/sore throat/cold

2h) The fact that I really really wanted this show

Of course, once I start to CARE about an audition, it all goes to hell. This is precisely what happened.

I got there pretty early, sat in a chair, trying not to throw up/faint. The girl next to me is eyeing my hooker boots, giving me a dirty look. I'm not WEARING my hooker boots into the audition, dude. I just have them on 'cuz it's RAINING SO CHILL OUT!!!!!!!! When I change into my snazzy Kenneth Cole black pumps, she hates me more. I try to smile at her. She pretends she wasn't giving me the evil eye. But she was. Oh, she was.

I don't know why girls can't just smile and be like, "hey". It's simple, really. Auditions suck. We're all sitting out there waiting. Stop being paranoid and thinking I'm going to steal your song idea or sing better than you or whatever. Just, ugh.

I decide on a song, I'm given the sides of a scene to read, the monitor asks if I want to go in early and get it done with. I say yes 'cuz hello? I'm about to PASS THE HELL OUT.

What The Directors Saw: Cute blonde girl enters room with cute shoes and a black sweater. She is smiling and showing the accompanist her music.

What Was Happening In My Head: Oh My God, just keep smiling and the room will stop spinning. It's hot in here, holy crap it's hot, grab onto the piano so you don't fall down. Grab ittttttttttt got it! Safe. Accompanist hates you. HATES YOU. Shit.

The accompanist tells me my song choice isn't that great and do I have something more pop/rock?

I stifle a scream.

Earlier this morning, I took out ALL the pop/rock stuff (Read: 2 songs) from my book because 1) No one ever asks me for pop/rock and b) I can't hit those notes today 'cuz my THROAT IS ON FIRE and I will NOT keep it in there in case they ASK ME FOR IT and I SUCK AT IT.

The accompanist decides on "X" and I sing the last 30 bars or so. It sounds pretty damn good considering I'm concentrating on keeping the snot IN my nose so that it doesn't rocket onto the director's table. They smile. Safe.

Wait. No.

The casting director (shit) asks me for more pop/rock. I stifle a groan. I explain that the accompanist and I were just looking for something more like that but this is the best I have. She says it's too "safe" of a choice and too "sweet". I head back to the accompanist. She is flipping through my book.

This is slow motion. They are staring, they are waiting, I am flushing because I'm embarrassed and HELLO I HAVE A HUGE ASS FEVER!? Grab the piano. Steady. The casting director says she just needs to see more depth. I learned in college never to tell them when you're sick, never apologize, etc. because it sounds like you are just apologizing for sucking and frankly, directors don't care. So, being that this is the worst day of my life, I promptly ignore this rule.

"I'm so sorry," I gush, sure that their hatred is intensifying, "I actually took out my pop songs today because of my fever. I was afraid of cracking through them."

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH," say the directors.

The accompanist whips out a folk song I have in there by some FREAKISH LUCK. I head back to stand in the middle of the floor, the room is spinning, spinning, almost gone, NO NO LAURA! STAY AWAKE! I ask them a question.

"So...do you want some riffing?"

"No," says casting director, "I just need a fuller sound, I need all you can give me."

DUDE, all I can give you right now is a snot rocket and/or fainting spell. But I'll give it a try. (This is, thankfully, not said outloud).

I sing "Y" and it goes okay. They whisper. I wait. I need some water.

They tell me to read the scene I was given.

I do it, I make bold choices, I'm strong, I'm crazy. Woooo awesome!

"Not quite," says Director #1.

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?!

"She needs more energy, crazy energy." The casting director chimes in.

"She is as clumsy as Mary Katherine Gallager but she's as smart as Einstein, okay? Go with that."

I decide that maybe this whole acting this is just not really "it" for me. Nuclear physics is looking MUCH better. Or, perhaps, just dying a slow, painful death by way of flesh-eating maggots. That looks good about now too.

I HATE that I sucked enough to get a note to act more clumsy and spastic because ummmm HELLO!? DO THEY KNOW WHO THEY'RE DEALING WITH HERE!? I once fell off a balance beam and broke my left wrist and right ankle at the same time! Hell, I fall down walking from my bedroom to the kitchen to get SIRIAL.

I start out with more physical energy, trying to be more spastic (PS this never works when you're TRYING, I can only be funny/spastic when I'm not trying to be), halfway through they give up listening and whisper whisper whisper.

The director asks me to take my shoes off. He adds, "Miss...summa cum laude!"

WHAT?!!?!? He obviously got that from my resumé. I know I shouldn't put "summa cum laude" on my theatre resumé but I do because damnit if I have to openly admit to the world that I got a BFA in MUSIC THEATRE, I have to add that I was totally smart about it (3.899 GPA WHAT WHAT!!!) but now, is he mocking me? I emit a nervous laugh and take off my beautiful Kenneth Cole's. I am barefoot.

"OKAY! THANK YOU!" they shout. I pick up my shoes and my book. The accompanist smirks. She hates me. Absolutely.

"Thank *YOU*" I say.

As I walk out the door I hear the casting director mutter, "Well it IS hard to audition when you're sick."

I gathered up my stuff and dissolved into tears. I felt so frustrated by the sheer suckageness of it all. Frustrated with MYSELF for taking out my pop/rock music and for being unprepared. I just had to have a good cry and let myself be truly disappointed with everything.

The semi-good news is that before this whole thing went down, I had another audition set for tomorrow with the same casting director for a different show. So, maybe I can prove myself tomorrow. I'm going to stack my book with more stuff tonight and go over more songs. Maybe I can extricate myself from this "Me=Crazy Sucky Girl At Every Audition" situation. I don't think I'll say that I can turn it around 180 degrees and land a job, but maybe I can just show her that I'm not a horrible singer/actress for future reference.

Did I mention I'm sick and that it's raining??!? F'in BUCKETS AND BUCKETS?!?!?!

Hey, at least this week I brushed elbows with Luke Wilson and then saw Conan O'Brien. I think this is because despite the wretchedness of this morning, I am still, underneath it all, a rockstar.

I think.

Peace.