Not really THAT into copper kettles

Tonight, I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone.

I auditioned for a play. A musical. And not just any musical, my favorite musical of all time. Ever.

Here's the thing, since I had accomplished my goal for the year of taking an improv class (count em, three classes, one, two, three), and since the whole reason for taking improv was to get me one step closer to my lifelong goal of being on stage, in a play, ahem, a musical, I decided the time was right to up the ante.

Sometimes where I work is kind of like a giant high school. There are clubs and co-curricular activities galore. In fact here's an honest to goodness sentence I uttered to the Commish the other day, "Yeah, I may not to be able to play in the flag football league at work, if I make the play." Has anyone in their 30s ever uttered that phrase and genuinely meant it?

So my work has its own theatre troupe. Last fall I went to see their production of "School House Rock, Live!" (yes, they unpacked their adjectives in conjunction junction), and when I saw the show I immediately thought, heck I can do that! I have an obsession with musical theatre and have illusions of Broadway--anytime I leave a show, I fantasize about what life as a tony award winning actress would be like. Uh, maybe they are delusions of Broadway. At any rate, it seemed like this work theatre troupe may be a safe and welcoming entry into acting (dramatic pause).

And when an e-mail popped up in my inbox announcing auditions for Into the Woods, I knew I had to do it. My high school put on a production of Into the Woods and I fell in love with the theater the moment I saw it. Loved the singing, loved the dark twisted plot, loved the thought of being up on stage. It's almost like it's fate--a safe step removed from community theatre kind of fate, but fate nonetheless. I may have set an Outlook response speed record in replying to that message. Only after I hit send, I realized I've never auditioned for a part in a play... I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

The audition called for a 1-2 minute monologue and 16 measures of a song. I tried on multiple monologues for size and finally settled on a comedic performance where I could make a complete fool of myself (perfect). And, after being laughed across the cafeteria by FCA for my original song choice--Eternal Flame by the Bangles, okay, I know--I made a decision to go for a theatrical classic that I could belt out.

Flash forward to tonight and the audition. Here's my rendition of what transpired:

The scene: Conference room at work set up theater-style with several rows of empty seats (oh, maybe I should have seen those as audience members and not trampled through them in my monologue... oops), with the producer and director sitting at a table behind the empty rows.

Producer and Director (P&D): Hello (shake my hand introducing themselves).

Me: Hi. (Take a deep breath, which quite possibly maybe the last breath I take the entire time I'm in the room)

P&D: Would you like to sing, or act first.

Me: Act (do monologue, I think well, not factoring in the fact that I paid no mind to the "audience" of chairs).

P&D: Great now let's do a voice check.

Me: staring blankly Uh. I don't know what that is.

P&D: It's to see your vocal range.

Me: Oh. Yeah. Got it. Nerdy, dorky, giggle, on the verge of snorting, but hold it in. Sing up and down the scales trying really really hard to expand my range beyond that of 80s hairband.

P&D: Great, now what are you going to sing.

Me: Well, I've selected a wonderful musical number from the Sound of Music, "My Favorite Things."

P&D: (I think I heard an audible, yay!)

Me: Sing 16 measures, a Capella which is essentially the first verse. Stop. Do you want me to continue.

P&D: Yes, and we want you to continue with the physicality you had in your monologue.

D'oh. I thought they just wanted me to stand their and sing, so I continue to sing the entire song, channeling my inner Tony award winning self and dance around the "stage" pretending I'm Julie-Freakin-Andrews only this time I mind the fake audience and don't trample any chairs.

Me: That's it.

P&D: Great job.

Me: Thanks. I've never done that before. (At which point I realize I have so much adrenaline coursing through my body that I probably shouldn't open my mouth and talk any more for fear of what may come out. Note to self: Listen to that wise wise voice telling you to just smile, say thank you, and walk away.)

P&D: Oh really, so what made you come out tonight.

Me: (inhales deeply) WellIsawIntotheWoodsinhighschoolandloveditsomuchIknewIwantedtobeintheaterbutIplayedsportscompetitivelythroughoutsoIcouldneverbeinanyoftheplaysbuteversincethenI'velovedIntotheWoodsImeantheaterhaandIdecidedthisyearthatIwantedtotryandbeinaplaysoIstartedtakingimprovclassesandthenwehnIsawtheemailthatthefallshowwasIntotheWoodsIthoughtIhavetogotryoutbecacuseIloveIntotheWoodssohereIamtryingoutforIntotheWoodswhichIlove.

Pretty much that's how it went. Keeping my fingers crossed for callbacks and maybe a chance to redeem my amped up dorkiness. Ah, but maybe that "energy" will help me get a role. But if not, at least I can say I tried, had fun, and learned some stuff (not too unlike a date with me).