High Times On The New Show

There is nothing quite like your director asking, "Do you ever partake of the ganja?"

(I did, with he, in front of his 15 year old, who looked particularly bored by the whole thing.)

So, auditions went reasonably well, considering only 18 people showed up for a 40 person show. Im not really sure what we might do, other than make calls and offer parts to strangers. A couple disappointments, however, DID make an appearance. First of all, these auditions were in the new Rehearsal Building. Alls I can say is Eh. I mean, sure, I suppose its great that this company finally has a rehearsal space after whinging about it for so many years, but there's something....less fun about spending time in what used to be an air conditioner supplier building. (Plus, you know, its hard to get the ac in those metal buildings, so it was like 88 degrees in there.)

Also, the hot, cute, or reasonably attractive girl turnout on this show was disgustingly low. Four whole girls showed up; two were over 40, one was under 17, and one left before actually auditioning for undisclosed reasons. (Perhaps she was a lesbian, and took notice of the bleak prospects.) Normally, this girl thing is not that big of a deal, but in a show like this, you're lucky if you're not saddled with the octagenarian set at ALL times. At this point, the best I can hope for is hanging out with the director, and hopefully everyone will bring kids, grandkids, and hot younger friends. Hmph.

But, all my weeping aside, it IS nice to be back in the theatre life. Its been awhile since I sat somewhere and had a long line of people come in and say hello and ask me how I've been (Loophole notwithstanding). Its nice to feel well known and popular. Or at least well known. Or somewhat known.

So, today, after a two day absence that felt both too long and too short, I return to my high rise office in the sky, a determined but carefree look on my face. It occurs to me suddenly that I really really REALLY do not want to work today, and if anything horrible happens, like the phone ringing, I may just SNAP. Prolly not though. I may, however, need to sooth my soul with the steamy sounds of Maroon 5. Who wants to have sex to music?