It's been a while, and so much has happened. First off, I was once again cast as a chorus member in Hairspray, so I didn't post because I had nothing good to say. Then my grandfather died a couple days later; more having no good things to say. Then my laptop temporarily broke down so I had no ability to post anything. But now here I am, internet up and running, and at terms with the fact that I might just not have any amazingly awesome things to say for a while. So I'm going to make lemonade from lemons.
The day before Hairspray auditions, I practiced my audition over and over. I had my a capella song down perfect. I was rehearsed, calm, and confident. Then, around 9 that night, my voice completely disappeared. I couldn't talk, much less sing. I couldn't believe it, this was just my luck. My audition song was supposed to be All That Jazz from the musical Chicago, which I can belt like no other. But due to my lack of belting ability the day of the audition, I had to do a last minute switch to Amazing Grace, which is pretty, but not exactly what I had planned for. I'm sure I looked embarassed and unsure while I was singing, because I was. What came out of my mouth in that room was not nearly what I know I was capable of. So I was not at all suprised when all my friends were posting on Facebook about how excited they were about their callbacks and my phone never rang. I stayed up until two that morning (a school night) waiting to get a call, a text, something. Finally, around two thirty, when my phone still hadn't rang, I was resigned to admit I was not going to get a callback. I cried, and my poor mother, who is a teacher, stayed up with me, until three that morning, when she had class in five hours, and didn't leave until I didn't have any tears left. I didn't blame the director. After my audition, I wouldn't have given me a callback either. But I'm a hopeless optimist. I just thought that I might get one because I was sick. I sounded sick, I looked sick, I felt sick. But, since I cried over callbacks, this was the first cast list in a long time I hadn't cried over. After my audition, I was just happy to be cast.
I have also experienced a first in theater for me. I tried out for a show, and for the first time ever in my life, I was not cast. It's hard for me to talk about it, but I've realized that this happens at least sometimes to everyone involved in theater; not everyone gets cast every time. And I suppose that was something I had to learn sooner or later. But, looking at the girls who got the parts I tried out for, they are all tall, blonde, and skinny. I am none of those things. So for all I know it wasn't that I wasn't good or they didn't like me, sometimes you just don't have 'the look'.
Even though this has been a rough year so far theater-wise, the optimistic dreamer inside of me just keeps looking ahead. Someday, when I accept my Oscar for Best Leading Actress, I'll thank all the directors who put me in the back of the chorus, and especially the one who didn't cast me at all, because then I'll remember how long the road was to get me there, and all the bumps, swirves, and crashes involved. But until then, to each upcoming audition, I'll just walk in and say, 'hello again'.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
WARNING!!! I'm an Optimistic Dreamer!
In case you haven't caught on from my previous posts, I want to be an actress. Like Sandra Bullock or Nicole Kidman or someone like that. Don't close out this window because you think I'm delusional; I implore you to keep reading.
I've been acting since I was two years old. My first role was as the angel of the Lord in a church Christmas pageant. I said "Glory to God in the highest!", and I believe it was the only line in the play. Since then, I've been stuck. After one show finishes, I'm on the prowl for another audition. I'm thrilled when I'm able to do two shows at once, because it makes me feel smart in some unique, twisted way. My aunt and uncle used to take me to shows put on my a local youth theater group. When I was 7, I convinced my parents to let me audition for their production of Winnie the Pooh. I was cast as a non-speaking animal(the part I tried out for). I ran across the stage screaming a couple of times, which was perfect for an overly excited seven-year-old. Since then, I've participated in almost 30 productions, most of them with the same company. In most of those 30 productions I've played a chorus member, which was fine for a while, but now I'm ready for my time to shine. The past couple shows that I've been a no-name, I've cried when the cast list was posted. Luckily, it's emailed to us, so I can have my meltdown in private, but it still hurts just as bad. When you don't get what you want so many times over, you start to take it personally. I've stopped believeing well-meaning comments like "You're just not what the director was looking for" or "You'll still have fun" or, my least favorite, "You'll get the next one". Because you know what? I never do. But something keeps me going. There's some sort of drive in the pit of my stomach that makes me keep trying, that keeps me believing that someday I'll accept my Oscar with a newfound sense of pride and bask in the glory of knowing that I did something no one thought I could do-- something that sometimes I don't even think I can do. But I know I can. I have to. I have to be able to come home and non-chalently tell all the people who have tried to shoot me down that I'm still standing.
So I've settled with 'the right part just hasn't come along yet'. But this year, I know it will. It has to. I keep insisting that soon I'll get a notable part, or a part with a name, or even a couple lines or a solo. Some might wonder, with all this rejection, if I'm any good. If I just am I horrible actress and should just give up. But I know I don't stink. Before I signed with my agent, I had to audition by reading a script for them. If I was terrible, they wouldn't waste their time, money, and resorces on me.
Every year around Christmastime, my church puts on a pretty prestigues program. People from all over our city and surrounding cities so see it. The show usually follows the birth of Christ, the events leading up to it, and sometimes those immediately following, and it is never exactly the same. The role of Mary, mother of Jesus, is usually played by a member of the adult choir. Mary sings solos and has some dramatic scenes. To me, the thought of someone not a thirty-something choir member playing Mary was unthinkable. Until, this year, some force overcame me and I tried out for the role. I never believed I had a shot. I didn't think they would even consider me. I was sure that as soon as I left the room they all burst out laughing at my audacity. But then, a few days later, I got what was very possibly the most wonderful phone call of my life. I had gotten the part. When my mom told me, We both jumped up and down, screaming, hugging, and crying(well, mostly I was crying). All I could say was "Finally" over and over again. This was the first time in numerous years I had cried happy tears over a cast list. This was the first time there had not been screaming in frustration, jumping up and down so I could stomp harder. Finally I felt the sensation that is feeling overjoyed. I believe that was the first time I felt it, and it was amazing. Hopefully, I will feel it often in the future. Finally, I was going to get my time to have a notable role, and this was truely the best role I will ever have; it was the role of a lifetime. I was so honored to get the oppertunity to represent the mother of my saviour. Even though I was diagnosed with laryngitis the day before the show, it was still a wonderful production like it always is. There is a woman at my church who writes a blog that is widely read; my mom and I read it reguarly. After the show, she blogged about my 'moving performance'. It was my first review, and I was so happy to have impressed this amazing writer.
Next week, I'm setting myself up for another disappointment-- or another moment of feeling overjoyed. I hope it's the latter. The youth theater group I often perform with is about to hold auditions for Hairspray, the musical. I plan to try out, hoping, wishing, and most importantly praying, for a good outcome. I want a good part so bad I can taste it. I want a good part so bad I've already cried over it--twice. I know it sounds pathetic, but it is what it is. The reason I'm posting this paragraph is so that hopefully, in the previous paragraphs I've made you want me to get a good part too. Hopefully, I've convinced you to also pray for a good outcome. So now I have just one question; would it appear too desprate if I wore my hair like my desired character?
I've been acting since I was two years old. My first role was as the angel of the Lord in a church Christmas pageant. I said "Glory to God in the highest!", and I believe it was the only line in the play. Since then, I've been stuck. After one show finishes, I'm on the prowl for another audition. I'm thrilled when I'm able to do two shows at once, because it makes me feel smart in some unique, twisted way. My aunt and uncle used to take me to shows put on my a local youth theater group. When I was 7, I convinced my parents to let me audition for their production of Winnie the Pooh. I was cast as a non-speaking animal(the part I tried out for). I ran across the stage screaming a couple of times, which was perfect for an overly excited seven-year-old. Since then, I've participated in almost 30 productions, most of them with the same company. In most of those 30 productions I've played a chorus member, which was fine for a while, but now I'm ready for my time to shine. The past couple shows that I've been a no-name, I've cried when the cast list was posted. Luckily, it's emailed to us, so I can have my meltdown in private, but it still hurts just as bad. When you don't get what you want so many times over, you start to take it personally. I've stopped believeing well-meaning comments like "You're just not what the director was looking for" or "You'll still have fun" or, my least favorite, "You'll get the next one". Because you know what? I never do. But something keeps me going. There's some sort of drive in the pit of my stomach that makes me keep trying, that keeps me believing that someday I'll accept my Oscar with a newfound sense of pride and bask in the glory of knowing that I did something no one thought I could do-- something that sometimes I don't even think I can do. But I know I can. I have to. I have to be able to come home and non-chalently tell all the people who have tried to shoot me down that I'm still standing.
So I've settled with 'the right part just hasn't come along yet'. But this year, I know it will. It has to. I keep insisting that soon I'll get a notable part, or a part with a name, or even a couple lines or a solo. Some might wonder, with all this rejection, if I'm any good. If I just am I horrible actress and should just give up. But I know I don't stink. Before I signed with my agent, I had to audition by reading a script for them. If I was terrible, they wouldn't waste their time, money, and resorces on me.
Every year around Christmastime, my church puts on a pretty prestigues program. People from all over our city and surrounding cities so see it. The show usually follows the birth of Christ, the events leading up to it, and sometimes those immediately following, and it is never exactly the same. The role of Mary, mother of Jesus, is usually played by a member of the adult choir. Mary sings solos and has some dramatic scenes. To me, the thought of someone not a thirty-something choir member playing Mary was unthinkable. Until, this year, some force overcame me and I tried out for the role. I never believed I had a shot. I didn't think they would even consider me. I was sure that as soon as I left the room they all burst out laughing at my audacity. But then, a few days later, I got what was very possibly the most wonderful phone call of my life. I had gotten the part. When my mom told me, We both jumped up and down, screaming, hugging, and crying(well, mostly I was crying). All I could say was "Finally" over and over again. This was the first time in numerous years I had cried happy tears over a cast list. This was the first time there had not been screaming in frustration, jumping up and down so I could stomp harder. Finally I felt the sensation that is feeling overjoyed. I believe that was the first time I felt it, and it was amazing. Hopefully, I will feel it often in the future. Finally, I was going to get my time to have a notable role, and this was truely the best role I will ever have; it was the role of a lifetime. I was so honored to get the oppertunity to represent the mother of my saviour. Even though I was diagnosed with laryngitis the day before the show, it was still a wonderful production like it always is. There is a woman at my church who writes a blog that is widely read; my mom and I read it reguarly. After the show, she blogged about my 'moving performance'. It was my first review, and I was so happy to have impressed this amazing writer.
Next week, I'm setting myself up for another disappointment-- or another moment of feeling overjoyed. I hope it's the latter. The youth theater group I often perform with is about to hold auditions for Hairspray, the musical. I plan to try out, hoping, wishing, and most importantly praying, for a good outcome. I want a good part so bad I can taste it. I want a good part so bad I've already cried over it--twice. I know it sounds pathetic, but it is what it is. The reason I'm posting this paragraph is so that hopefully, in the previous paragraphs I've made you want me to get a good part too. Hopefully, I've convinced you to also pray for a good outcome. So now I have just one question; would it appear too desprate if I wore my hair like my desired character?
Sunday, February 13, 2011
When Life Gives You Lemons... Blog About It
In my previous post I mentioned that one of the issues that is important to me is cancer. In October, 2007, my grandmother was diagnosed with kidney cancer. She was immediately admitted to the hospital, where she stayed until she died on the 28th of that month. She was one of my best friends. My grandmother was the family member I had the most in common with. It was like she always knew how I really felt, despite the face I tried to put forward. We had a great relationship.
Even though my grandmother went quickly, at least I had some amount of time to come to terms with what was happening and to say goodbye. Some people aren't as fortunate as my family was. On Monday my best friend found out her grandmother had cancer in her liver, lungs, back, and brain. This morning she died. This really put things into perspective for me. I thought I didn't have enough time to say goodbye, but things really can always be worse.
My friend will probably get a lot of comments that go something like 'Well, at least she didn't suffer much'. I got so many of those I lost count. However, these sorts of condolences did not offer me any sort of comfort at all. I also didn't appreciate questions/comments like 'How are you doing?' or 'At least you have memories' or, my least favorite, 'Do you want to talk about it?'. No, I didn't want to talk about it. I am still not satisfied with only the memories I have, and I think it was pretty obvious that I was not ok. What I really wanted was someone to just sit with me. Not talk, not try to distract me, just give me a hug, and sit with me, in total silence, and hold my hand. My friend did this for me. I didn't even have to ask her, she just knew. She was amazing through that entire season of my life. Now, through these unfortunate circumstances, I have the chance to return the favor. Now, since I've been through what she's going through, I'll know exactly what she needs. I'll know what to do, what to say, and what not to say. I'll know that chicken noodle soup totally fails as 'comfort food' after fourteen people bring it to you... fourteen people in one day. I'll know that fourteen dollars worth of jelly beans, an outrageously oversized blanket, and open arms can be more effective in the healing process than all the I'm sorries the world could offer. Now I know that even though she's hurting more than she ever has now, a good friend that comes to the funeral, sends random texts that says 'I love you', and is willing to watch Miss Congeniality for the twenty-fourth time in a row really shows who really loves you. Although I'm not giving any names in this post, when she reads this, she'll know this is for her.
BFROS darling.
Even though my grandmother went quickly, at least I had some amount of time to come to terms with what was happening and to say goodbye. Some people aren't as fortunate as my family was. On Monday my best friend found out her grandmother had cancer in her liver, lungs, back, and brain. This morning she died. This really put things into perspective for me. I thought I didn't have enough time to say goodbye, but things really can always be worse.
My friend will probably get a lot of comments that go something like 'Well, at least she didn't suffer much'. I got so many of those I lost count. However, these sorts of condolences did not offer me any sort of comfort at all. I also didn't appreciate questions/comments like 'How are you doing?' or 'At least you have memories' or, my least favorite, 'Do you want to talk about it?'. No, I didn't want to talk about it. I am still not satisfied with only the memories I have, and I think it was pretty obvious that I was not ok. What I really wanted was someone to just sit with me. Not talk, not try to distract me, just give me a hug, and sit with me, in total silence, and hold my hand. My friend did this for me. I didn't even have to ask her, she just knew. She was amazing through that entire season of my life. Now, through these unfortunate circumstances, I have the chance to return the favor. Now, since I've been through what she's going through, I'll know exactly what she needs. I'll know what to do, what to say, and what not to say. I'll know that chicken noodle soup totally fails as 'comfort food' after fourteen people bring it to you... fourteen people in one day. I'll know that fourteen dollars worth of jelly beans, an outrageously oversized blanket, and open arms can be more effective in the healing process than all the I'm sorries the world could offer. Now I know that even though she's hurting more than she ever has now, a good friend that comes to the funeral, sends random texts that says 'I love you', and is willing to watch Miss Congeniality for the twenty-fourth time in a row really shows who really loves you. Although I'm not giving any names in this post, when she reads this, she'll know this is for her.
BFROS darling.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Welcome to my blog!
If you are one of the fifteen people who actually ran across this page, thanks for dropping by ;) If you are one of the two who actually stay stayed, read, and explored, then thank you so much! If by some miracle you liked it and decide to drop by every once and a while to see what's up, then, seriously, I love you!
I am a 16 year old aspiring actress. I am in search of a career resembling, but not identical to, that of Sandra Bullock, Jennifer Aniston, or Meryl Streep. Or really just anyone who has a career where they get to perform every single day, and they love it. All I've really ever wanted to do is be on stage, in front of a microphone, or in front of a camera. I thrive on the adrinaline rush I get the second before my foot touches the edge of the stage. For the past ten years, I have been anxiously awaiting the day when all I do is act. That is literally all I want to do with my life. That is what I want my career to be. I think it's wonderful that the modern world has made it possible for people like me to dream of doing what we love and getting paid for it.
I have recently signed with my first agency, and I could not possibly be more extatic! That means my dream is that much closer to becoming my reality! I know there are at least three million girls with the exact same aspiration as mine, but a great part of them will most likely move on to something else. For me, from the very first time I stood on a stage in front of an auditorium full of people at age 3, I've been sure that this is what I'm meant to do.
Hopefully, someday I'll be able to use my celebrity to help others. I hope to raise awareness about issues close to my heart, such as cancer, preserving wildlife, and juvinile diabetes, which I have suffered from since I was two. I hope to someday help researchers find a cure for diabetes. Then millions of people won't have to deal with what I've dealt with for the past 13 (almost 14) years.
I hope that at least one person will read the above paragraphs. And I hope at least one person likes them. And I hope that one person keeps checking back, and keeps reading my posts. The topics I've only briefly touched on in this entry are the ones my blog will be mainly about. Hopefully, this blog will help me stay motivated to reach my goals. And hopefully, my blog will help others reach their goals, too.
xoxo,
Allie
I am a 16 year old aspiring actress. I am in search of a career resembling, but not identical to, that of Sandra Bullock, Jennifer Aniston, or Meryl Streep. Or really just anyone who has a career where they get to perform every single day, and they love it. All I've really ever wanted to do is be on stage, in front of a microphone, or in front of a camera. I thrive on the adrinaline rush I get the second before my foot touches the edge of the stage. For the past ten years, I have been anxiously awaiting the day when all I do is act. That is literally all I want to do with my life. That is what I want my career to be. I think it's wonderful that the modern world has made it possible for people like me to dream of doing what we love and getting paid for it.
I have recently signed with my first agency, and I could not possibly be more extatic! That means my dream is that much closer to becoming my reality! I know there are at least three million girls with the exact same aspiration as mine, but a great part of them will most likely move on to something else. For me, from the very first time I stood on a stage in front of an auditorium full of people at age 3, I've been sure that this is what I'm meant to do.
Hopefully, someday I'll be able to use my celebrity to help others. I hope to raise awareness about issues close to my heart, such as cancer, preserving wildlife, and juvinile diabetes, which I have suffered from since I was two. I hope to someday help researchers find a cure for diabetes. Then millions of people won't have to deal with what I've dealt with for the past 13 (almost 14) years.
I hope that at least one person will read the above paragraphs. And I hope at least one person likes them. And I hope that one person keeps checking back, and keeps reading my posts. The topics I've only briefly touched on in this entry are the ones my blog will be mainly about. Hopefully, this blog will help me stay motivated to reach my goals. And hopefully, my blog will help others reach their goals, too.
xoxo,
Allie
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