This semester, that means sitting in a bed (sometimes my bed, sometimes the boyfriend's bed) and reading story submissions for my employer, Chicken Soup for the Soul. Sometimes I do really fun things like "tag" manuscripts, which means inserting little symbols like [T] and [I] into 200-page Word documents. I'm telling you, the life I lead is almost too exciting.
I've probably had like ten bowls of cereal this morning and I have only left my bed to pour said cereal into bowls along with skim milk. But still, Fridays leave a lot of time for thought and contemplation.
Tonight I'm performing in a show called King David, written by Alan Menken and Tim Rice, as a part of the on-stage choir that stands (yes, stands for the whole show) in the dark behind the orchestra. Let me translate: We sing, no one can hear us, and we don't even get to wear costumes.
But here's the thing -- as much as KD is currently making me miserable (and will cease to do so after tonight's closing performance, hooray!) it has reaffirmed something for me. I watch the people doing the roles that I covet and I'm reminded of the fierce desire I have to "make it." I know it's a cliche, and I'm well aware that every Idina Menzel-obsessed fourteen-year-old in Minnesota also wants to "make it" on Broadway, but I REALLY REALLY want to make it. No, really. I'm pretty sure if you put me in a Silence of the Lambs-esque dirt pit and told me I could originate a role on Broadway if I escaped, I would claw my way out somehow.
Ambitious, I know. But while I stand in the dark in my J. Crew sweater dress tonight, wishing I was wearing false eyelashes and that someone could actually hear me sing in the audience, I'll just be happy that there's something in this world that makes me feel that way.
No comments:
Post a Comment