Remember how I lost a role that I loved last week? ( It kinda blew chunks for those just tuning in.)

Today I had a “Close door, open window” moment.

I got a phone call from the very sweet assistant director who held my hand through the whole ordeal. She told me that she was participating in the summer stock season of an adorable lakeside theater about an hour away from my house and asked if I would have any interest in splitting a role with her because she is so busy she can’t commit to every performance over three months.

Dude.

I have always wanted to work in this particular theater. It’s small (About 300 seats) and it is a hand built log theater that a family founded about 40 years ago. I love it. I always have, since I was a kid. I just never really thought I could work it into my schedule or pay that much for gas. However, since I am splitting the performances, it will be a manageable 15 shows and since I’m getting paid, the gas point is moot.

The role is in Thoroughly Modern Millie as the eccentric diva, Muzzy (Typecasting, anyone?). Problems? She is in her late 40’s, and is basically supposed to be a bigger diva than Ella Fitzgerald and Aretha Franklin combined. You can check out the big number I’ll be singing if you care to. This is a crappy recording, but the actress is a pretty damn good Muzzy (Still a bit young, though.)

A real show stopper, no?

I can’t help but be a little nervous. I know that I am in my early 30’s and am a thin-ish white opera singer that lives in a house built by dairy hands in their spare time, but given that I live in a totally homogenized section of the country, you are doing awesome if you can find a female that isn’t blond, blue eyed and dainty featured.

Even though I was fairly confident I would be cast due to the strong recommendation of my friend, the people in charge still had to hear me in person, so last night I stopped by the director and producer’s house and sang. The role is heavy, jazzy, low and sultry, so I sang few stanzas of a jazzed up version of “Summertime” that I sing about an octave and a half down from the original key because that is the only remotely appropriate styled song I knew. The role uses the belt technique, which is usually harder for me, but the key is so dang low (my comfort zone) that I have little to no issues.

The producer was lovely. She recognized me from The King and I and she said, “I would be standing back stage and this glorious presence and VOICE would glide by.” (FYI, hearing that is much better for your psyche than auditioning when you know that the person doesn’t really dig your sound. Just so you know.)

They must have liked it because I got the call just now that the role is mine and my first rehearsal is tonight.

Even though in so many ways, I am not right for the role, I am really excited because it is TOTALLY different from classical or the musical theater that I usually do. I will get to channel my inner bluesy lounge singer and I will also have something to drag my ass out of the house and work at.

I have never seen the movie, heard the music before yesterday, nada. The cast has already been in rehearsals for almost 8 weeks. My opening performance is June 19th, which means that I have about a month to get this role down.

That is not a long time, people.

Wish me luck. (Don’t tell me to “Break a leg”. With my luck, Karma would probably translate that literally)

We all have moments from high school that we remember with perfect clarity. Moments that are still so close to you that you remember everything about it-the smell, the outfit you were wearing, and the feelings that corsed through your hormone-addled body. Hopefully, some of those moments were times of triumph or joy, but often they are moments of failure, embarrassment or stinging disappointment. I have been on both sides of those feelings and know vividly what each feels like.

Tonight I was responsible for deciding some of those moments for a good many teenagers and I am not sure how I feel about it.

I was asked to be a judge at a vocal competition for high schoolers.

It is a huge deal for these kids.

It’s a big deal to me as well.

It is a lot of responsibility.

A lot of self-worth can be tied up in a trophy and I am not sure how well that sits with me.

Every time I am asked to judge something like this I take it very seriously because I know how much it means to them. I truly enjoy doing it. I have worked hard to be qualified to judge someone vocally and I love working with the kids.

I also needed this responsibility right now.

I have been overwhelmed with life suck. I know that it is necessary and so I am really trying to stay positive and upbeat, but I have been having a hard few days and have been a shut in this week. Getting out of the house to go somewhere that I need to actually bathe and brush my hair was very, very needed.

The fact that I got paid is just a bonus.

Sure, there are frustrations when you judge a competition of this sort. Some of the performances are so godawful that all you can write is “You have a very pretty dress on and your hair looks nice”, they are THAT bad.

After you are done siting through two long hours writing so fast and furious on judging forms that your hand feels like it is falling off, you have to go in a little room and determine who wins and who loses.

Luckily, most of the winners were apparent to us.

Sometimes when the winners are announced, there is some confusion in the audience as far as placement. That is not an anomaly. Audience favorites are often not the people that are selected by the judges. For example, in the male placement tonight, there was one singer that was so adorable I wanted to put him in my purse and take him home. His voice was more suited for musical theater, but he had such a playful and outgoing presence that the audience loved him. He did well on his piece (I attempt from love’s sickness. Not an easy piece to sing) but we picked another boy that did not quite have his presence and popularity of the other boy, but his training and sound were just better.

Plus, there was no way that the adorable kid would not have oodles of accolades in his high school career. He was a grade younger and I don’t know if I can describe it, but it was a gut instinct that the other kid NEEDED it more. I wouldn’t have awarded it to him just on that alone, but it cinched my decision for me.

I feel good about how the evening went, but I admit to having a moment of self doubt.

The third place trophy in the female vocal division.

It was between two young singers, both were ok, neither remarkable (Truthfully, no one in the competition was remarkable) and both were of similar skill.

One of the girls sang a flashier piece than the other. It was the song that landed me a full-ride vocal scholarship to college and honestly? I think that it colored my judgment against her. I feel I was a little more critical of the piece than the others.

I cast my vote for the other girl and while the judges agreed with me, I also think that they may have been just following my lead as I had more classical experience than the other judges, but I’m not sure.

I walked back into the auditorium feeling fine about it.

Then?

I saw the face of the girl I voted against when they announced and she realized that she hadn’t placed.

She was devastated.

I felt a bit like six shades of suck.

I have failures from high school that I can still remember because they have stayed with me. They were excruciating. Sure, it doesn’t sting as much now that years have passed, but I have certainly played and replayed the moments time and time again and critiqued what I did wrong, and what I would do differently if I had a do-over.

I still stand by my decision and know that guess what? SOMEONE had to lose, but seeing that moment was hard for me. I know that she is utterly confused and probably bewildered at the decision we came to. I have been right there where she was at that moment and I really wish that I hadn’t been one of those responsible for handing it to her.

I know I’ll get over it.

I really hope that she does.

My body hurts.

This isn’t a new experience for me. I have several back and neck herniations from a bad car crash and being thrown and trampled by a horse. One leg is also shorter than the other due to some curvature of my spine.

(Totally sexy imagry, no?)

It exacerbates matters that I have a bed that sucks. We are going to replace it this year, but I’ve been suffering with it for the last 6 years.

I never wake up feeling refreshed. I usually start feeling like knives are being stuck in various body parts before my eyelids flutter open. I imagine it is similar to what one would feel like if thrown out of a moving train. Then run over by a tractor. Then peed on by the guy driving the tractor.

Point is, I hurt most of the time that I am conscious.

Aleve is my friend and for the most part I just suck it up and deal. You get used to it after awhile.

Right now, my body hurts more than the same-old, same-old.

Why, you ask?

See this fuzzy, poorly lit photo?

Yah, sorry about that. It’s the best I could do under the circumstances.

This gem of a theater will be my home for the next three weeks. I will spend more time there than in my own bed. (Again-given the extreme hideousness of it, I’m not sure that this is a bad thing.)

I am in the final weeks of appearing in a little musical called “The King & I“.

I’m just in the chorus. Specifically, I’m one of “The Royal Wives”. (The King of Siam was into polygamy. And yes, I find the irony that I’m doing this in Utah amusing.)

Normally, being in a choral role isn’t that difficult. Usually the toughest thing about it is the hours you have to wait around the theater doing nothing and wishing you could go home already.

Musically and character-wise, this is a VERY easy show but this choral role IS ABOUT TO KILL ME.

Apparently, the King is married to nine submissive women that drop to their knees and put their foreheads on the floor whenever he enters the room and freeze in that position until he finishes talking and says we can get up.

Before the bitchfest gets out of control I will say that this is turning into a great little production. I had such huge reservations at first, but it is going to be great. The orchestra is excellent, they flew in a great conductor from Florida and the costuming is as good, if not better than many of the professional productions I’ve been in. Because this is the debut musical for this theater company, they are investing thousands and thousands of dollars into it. Even the scene I LOATHE in musical theater (Uncle Tom’s Cabin) is good because they brought in an excellent choreographer and ballet company to perform it.

I am very happy and non-embarrassed to be a part of it.

THAT SAID…

Do you know how freaking long you have to be on your knees as a Royal Siamese Wife?

A FREAKING LONG TIME would be the answer. (The King enters the room a lot. He is also very long-winded.)

You would think that with that many wives we could rotate and schedule to keep it down to a minimum. (Was that inappropriate? Probably.)

Up! Down! Up! Down! Put your forehead on the ground!

For hours, and hours, and HOURS A DAY.

All of the bending and contorting into such extreme angles is taking its toll on my body. The other wives are even feeling it and I have EIGHT YEARS on the next oldest wife.

During the long-ass scenes where the King delivers amusing, pithy and long-winded dialog, etc. etc. etc., I am kneeling on the very hard stage floor feeling the blood pool and swell in my already damaged leg.

What? You mean you didn’t know that my 33-year-old body is totally falling apart? There’s more wrong with me than just back suck?

Yup.

Eight years ago, three weeks after my son, Christopher was born, I developed a massive blood clot in my abdomen that went down the length of my entire leg. I have a clotting disorder (Leiden V Factor) that means I am much more susceptible to blood clots than normal people. Since I have already thrown a clot, my chances of reclotting are even higher. It damn near killed me and left me with a damaged circulatory system and perpetually swollen leg.

My.legs.suck.

They suck.

(Oh, and did I mention that they SUCK?)
Don’t believe me? Here. Some honest photography for you.

You can see the size difference and the bluish, purple tone to my damaged leg.

You can see the pressure that is put on my left leg by how much the veins in my left foot “Pop” compared to my right foot.

I already struggle with poorly shaped legs. I am a bit bow-legged, I have a really hard time gaining muscle mass and have big feet and cankles. The blood clot just makes it all so much more attractive. Yippee.

It is why I always wear long pants and skirts. I never show my legs unless it is absolutely necessary. It isn’t just a vanity issue. I have been approached more times than I care to remember by well-meaning medical people who tell me that I may have a blood clot and should go to the nearest ER.

In their defense, it is a life-threatening condition. Plus, my leg looks like I could be in serious trouble; Most clots resolve where the leg returns to normal size. My clot was GINORMOUS. When It first happened my leg the size of both my legs put together and was dark purple.

I was in the hospital for a month. They told me to “Make arrangements” and prepare. They didn’t even dare put a filter in there were that scared that it would cause a piece to break off and go to my heart or brain and kill me. I was on Oxycontin for 8 months (It was rather new at the time. My doctors had no idea the hell it would be to get off of it after that long. Post for another day but lets just say that I understand why people hold up liquor stores and drive to Tijuana!)

This condition is permanent and painful. It sucks.

As much as I have enjoyed aspects of this musical and know that I auditioned willingly, I can’t wait for it to be over. It will be quite the effort to sit up there hurting and swelling and stay perfectly still and serene-looking.

There is zero point to this post. I have no “How I conquered my pain” or management tips or motivational tales about how I reached deep inside of myself and started wearing skirts to show that I love my body just as it is.

Nah.

I just wanted to bitch and whine about unattractive legs, crappy medical conditions and back pain. (And my piece of crap bed. We can’t forget about that.)

Thanks for listening. You all deserve a cookie for making it to the end of such long-winded, self-serving drivel.

Sigh…

I have had a very artistic and musical few days. Which is odd considering that I couldn’t even TALK on Thursday and that Friday was my first full day out of my sick bed. Today was the first day that I have been able to sing every note in my register in about a month. For being so newly recovered I certainly overtaxed my body and voice.

Friday: Musical theater rehearsal

Saturday: Judged district PTA reflection contest entries.(Felt sad that I could not give extra “Awesome Points” to the film entry that included tiny, fluffy BUNNIES!) Rehearsed for performances on Sunday.

Sunday: Three performances.

Yup. THREE. Two performances were at church services and the third was a big ‘ole concert.

Every year there is an interfaith Christmas concert held at the Tabernacle to benefit Cache Valley’s food pantry. Instead of money for ticket, there are big bins to leave food and containers for cash donations.

IT. WAS. PACKED.

There were probably a hundred plus people standing in the aisles and at the back. They even stood up the stairs that the performers use to get on and off the stage. It was crazy, but fun.

Two of the selections were conducted by Craig Jessop. For those who don’t know him, he is the conductor of The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, which is a pretty nifty singing group. He’s swell. I’ve sung under his baton quite a few times over the years and love working with him.

Jonathan and I do this concert every year and this year we were joined by my friends Mary Ellen and MacKenzie. We had lots of fun. I really enjoy singing with my friends and especially my husband, because it is one of the few things that we have in common.

Jonathan and I both sing well for the average person. We sound good together, but it is difficult to find pieces for us to sing because we are both low voices. Probably the thing that makes us stand out is our “Tone”. They are dark and rich and honey-like.

Sorry, got off track there reveling in my awesomeness.

We are always highly in demand during the holiday’s. We both come from very large, musical families, so we are often guest soloing or performing as “Ringers” in family members choirs, parties, business functions and church meetings. It’s fine, but it can make it pretty taxing, both vocally and schedule-wise. This year is comparatively light, thank goodness.

It was so reassuring to be able to sing tonight. It has been crazy scary for my voice lately. Thick, green mucous that resembled brain matter was my constant companion for almost four weeks. Do you know what that is like? I imagine it is pretty close to having to live with Paris Hilton and Britney Spears suctioned to your body 24-7. (I admit, that may be a TINY bit grodier, but it is a damn close call.)

Shudder.

Usually when I am sick, I don’t totally lose my voice. I was VERY sick during the Odgen performance of my role as Mezzo soloist in The Messiah, but I could stil eek through it. I would have been SCREWED if I was sick like this back then. They would have had to scramble to find a replacement.

Which reminds me…

*Begin of spectacular rant of insecurity mingled with a healthy dose of ego*

Ok, ok. I have had a few dozen emails over the last months to post a damn clip of it already. I have been hesitant because it is my classical voice, and it is not usually to most people’s taste. I can sing other styles, like my recording from “Wicked”with the other Loralee. It is pretty cool. If you aren’t into opera and like a lighter sound you should take a listen. Still, classical is what I am best at.

I also hesitate because of the sound quality of the recording. Don’t get me wrong, it is NOT the fault of our fab videographer, it is the fault of the theater. The recording was not piped into my mike, so what your are hearing is mainly my nasal core tones. A lot of the “Pretty” is not there. The orchestra is also off because the lighting in the first half made half of them blind. Poor guys.

That night was difficult. Sickness compounds a few obstacles that already exist for me. For one, as a low voice, it is very hard to project over a big orchestra. I also had such a hard time navigating between my upper and lower registers. (Which might only makes sense to you, and you and you. Sorry, non-vocal people! Oh, great. Now I am having anxiety that there may be some other vocal person out there that I didn’t link to. Please don’t stone me. It’s late and I am totally tired. I’ll make out with you in the parking lot after school tomorrow to make up for it. I’m a whore like that.)

I’m afraid you won’t like it.

Best to just lay it out on the table even though it makes me feel naked with vulnerability.

What? What was that, you say? Enough damn excuses and talk about “Mucous, this” and “Naked, that” and post the freaking link already?

FINE, THEN! See if I am ever vulnerable and naked in front of you again!! In fact, if that is the way you feel about it you can just go sleep on the couch and forget about seeing me naked for a damn long time!!!

Oh…Wait…For a minute there I thought I was arguing with my husband.*

Where was I?

Oh, yes…

Wanna see me sing in front of an orchestra while totally stoned on enough painkillers to down an Elephant and eleventyhundred doses of Nyquil in a kick ass dress?

HERE YOU GO.

(Freaking. Ducking. Hiding. Never coming out again. Well, at least not until tomorrow.)

*End of rant*

It’s sad how insecure such an extroverted individual can be, no?

Sigh…

###

*Kidding. I never argue like that. I’m more of a “I’m just going to go out and purchase items that you don’t usually like me to buy as sweet, sweet revenge” type of person.

I haven’t been around because I am pretty sick. I’m not surprised, everyone around me has been ill lately. I look awesome ‘possum, don’t you think? Not at all like someone that has been giving out $5 blowjobs and using dirty needles in a rat-infested alley, right?

The Messiah closed on Friday.I don’t think I have ever felt so awful during a performance. I woke up really sick in the morning. I’m used to feeling like I’ve been run over by a train, a semi and a couple of tractor trailers in the mornings, but this was “Fever, sinus, sore throat” SICK. I also kept violently sneezing which killed my back.

It was an hour drive to the city we performed in. I am glad that my passengers, Mary Ellen and Rachel survived. As she filled the role of “Diva Dress Fluffer“, I let Mary Ellen share my dressing room. I put off getting into my dress until the last possible second and I spent a lot of my time curled up in on the floor of my dressing room in the fetal position. I had enough painkillers and cold meds to kill a horse and I still felt like major suck. I can’t complain, though. Even though I felt like shit, I managed to look pretty damn good.It wasn’t easy getting the above photo. I have weird friends.
I can’t bitch too much. I blame myself.

I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to sing OK. That was important to me because this is the performance they recorded the DVD they produce annually. I’ll post it when I receive it, but it won’t be for a few months yet.

I even had some dear friends and family in the audience and I will be forever grateful that they cared enough about me to come. It said a lot about my relationships with the amazing people.

While it wasn’t as great as last weeks performance I was still happy with it and it was still such an amazing experience. I am so glad I got to do it and am looking forward to next year.