That having been said, life goes on. And so though that was Friday, it's the other, less horribly depressing events of my week that have brought me here.
Kicked off last week with an audition for the Texas Shakespeare Festival and committed the deeply embarrassing faux pas of forgetting my headshot and thus ended up almost 40 minutes late for my appointment. Though I felt pretty good about it, it was not a terribly auspicious start to the audition week. Tuesday I had an appointment for Let My People Come, a musical about sex... and my first foray into auditioning for shows with nudity. In spite of it being a 9 am audition in Morningside Heights at a bar, it went surprisingly well and I was brought back for the "dance" call the following morning.
If you look closely, you'll see the people on this album cover are in various levels of undress. More to come (pun intended) on that...
"Dance" call, you might be wondering? Well. I'll tell you. I arrive dressed to dance, as do the about two dozen other girls that are called back in my time frame. Then all of a sudden, the producer comes out to tell us that we'll be following Equity protocol and there will be a woman in the room at any time there will be nudity.
Sorry, wait? Hold the phone. I knew there was nudity in the show but nobody told me I was getting naked at the callback today. I had an inkling of suspicion on the train, but surely they would have notified us, right? WRONG.
They brought us in to learn a part of a song from the show, and then began bringing us in in small groups to perform. I had the (mis?) fortune to be in the last group, so it became abundantly clear rather quickly that yes. Yes, nudity was in the cards today. First time through, we sang the song, second time, we sang in our underwear, and the third time through we sang in whatever level of undress we were comfortable with.
So I sat, and I deliberated, and I made awkward audition small talk... and then the moment came. In we went, and we started off for round one. Sangin. Okay. That'll work. Round two, underwear singing. Let's face it, I was basically in my underwear in all my costumes from Miss Robusta Lays a Bomb this summer, and I did my first scantily clad photoshoot in college for Move Over Mrs. Markham, so that's a comfort level I can safely say I have actually reached. Was thrown for a brief loop when we all got to solo - in our underwear - but hey. Go with the flow.
And then the moment came. Until this point, I was firm on the fact that I intended to get topless, but the undies were staying on. But then we all started singing, and somehow... I decided to go for it! Naked. Singing. No, there are no photos of that. You're welcome. Was it weird? Yes. Did I immediately come home and have
While talking to a friend as we waited, I mentioned that two years ago had someone asked me to do this, there's no way I would have been comfortable enough to do this. She said the opposite, mentioning that she had been much thinner then. Ironically, so was I, but also so much less sure of myself and my body. It was wild and unsettling and crazy to get naked and sing and dance in an audition setting, but it was also really really freeing. I felt safe and why not? Here's to realizing what you can do. I didn't get the show, but it was a good experience to realize I was okay with that.
The rest of the week flew by, and before I knew it it was d-day - race day! I went to The Running Company after work Friday night to pick up my bib and free mug. It was really happening.
That's me! Number 1210 and now the proud owner of a Roosevelt Island 5K/10K mug. Eeee!
Saturday flew crawled by in a blur of Santa Con related horror and misery, and before I knew it it was 12:45 and I was able to sneak out of the bar a little early to pass out in my bed after twelve hours of serving shots to drunk people dressed as a coterie of Christmas related evil. Now as luck would have it, as with every time I have an early morning obligation, I slept nervously and not very well, but nonetheless at 8 am my alarm went off and I popped out of bed bleary eyed bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to head to Roosevelt Island to meet up with my dear friend Kati who I conned into running this with me.
Actually I'm joking, Kati has already run a half-marathon. Silly.
Pre-race. Eeeee this is happening! I really think I'm ready... I might actually be ready... I'm probably not ready. But I'm gonna run!
And the post race! I did it! I really did it! Kati at this point suggested that we run another lap. I laughed and enjoyed my free hot chocolate. But the point is I did it! And even a little faster than I expected!
32:34 seconds, for an average pace of 10:30/mile. Is it super fast? No. Is it even that far a distance? No. But coming from a girl who used to say she could only run on the treadmill because it wouldn't let me stop, from a girl who used to cry when she had to do the mile run in middle school, and a girl who wouldn't have EVER imagined herself signing up for a race for fun six months ago, this was a pretty freaking big deal. And I'm pretty proud of myself for going through with it.
And hey, I even kind of enjoyed it. And I may or may not be looking up next ones I can do.
All told, not a bad week for pushing my boundaries and really seeing what my own limits are. I think I did pretty well, actually.
Now it's t-1 week until California, and it's going to fly by with work, holiday parties, my roommate's birthday, and the potential end of the world. BRING IT, this week.
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