adventures in awesomeness…

Do Your Morals Need Supporting?

My audition was at 7:40pm and I needed to arrive 15 minutes early. If the drive was 50 minutes without traffic, what time would Ruby and I need to leave her house in order to stop by Ikea on the way?

Yeah, we had plans to eat dinner (at home) too, but everything kind of went out the window because we decided to stop by Lucky’s to stock up on $2 wine, vodka, whiskey, mixers and two oranges, because, well, oranges are good. I also needed a folder for my head shots, resume, and bio. Albertson’s school supply section sucked balls, so we headed to Ross. Little did I know that I would run into an old flame.

Twilight boys. I get older, they stay the same age. Yes, they do, yes they do.

We decided to leave Ross before I became the proud owner of a life-size Team Jacob poster. For those just dying to know, I found the folder at the mail box store next door. The only neat story there was that I got a free mint. Nice.

Now armed with booze, binders, and oranges, we returned to Ruby’s to get ready for my audition. I gave Ruby a preview and got a standing ovation from Columbo. We were on the road a little later than planned, but got lucky with traffic and arrived at Mission City Opera in one piece. I was blown away with how friendly everyone was. Seriously, every single person who was working that night was super-friendly and welcoming. Also, they called me Jessie, which made me feel at home.

Waiting for my number to be called.

When they found out that Ruby wasn’t a singer (“You mean you’re a nothing? A zilch? A zero?”), one man tried recruiting Ruby to be on crew. After complaining that being on crew sounded like a lot of work, Ruby explained that she was here as my moral support. The man looked at me and asked (quite seriously, I might add), “So your morals need supporting?” I couldn’t keep a straight face. Even Ruby stopped texting for a moment to snicker. Because, as you, my dear readers, already know, my morals need much supporting, as often as they can get it.

I have a thing for photos of me trying to keep a straight face.

I went on shortly after that (sandwiched between two SFCM school mates) and sang La Canzone di Doretta, from La Rondine (Puccini). I know they weren’t doing any Puccini this season, but every time I hear the opening of the song, I feel happy and relaxed, so I figured what a better state to sing in than happy and relaxed. My two high notes (which were glorious for Columbo), were a bit  tired and not quite as brilliant as I would have hoped. She didn’t ask for a second song, and I was starting to feel a bit down, when she began asking me about my time away and coachings. Interesting. I was rusty, but not forgotten. Whew. As we left, the girl at the front desk asked me to wait, and a woman came out and asked if I would do ensemble. Heck yeah, I would. It’s been three years since I’ve sung. No lessons, no coachings. Just babies and playing around occasionally. No time to be snobby. Besides, I could learn all the roles while in the ensemble, build relationships with bay area singers and MCO. Win. Win. Whoo-hoo!

Ruby and I were amped on the ride home. We talked about the audition, the future, and (of course) what we would be singing at karaoke.  Weezer, Bohemian Rhapsody, and Franz Ferdinand.


I Gave Some.

So most people brag about “getting some”. I get to brag about giving some. To Ruby. In the Ross handicap dressing room. She loved it. This is how it went down:

We went to Ross looking for a new dog dish, because Mylo broke the last one (sigh). I got hung up on $8 swim suits and blue jeans so we ended up dog piled in the handicap dressing room. I was trying on clothes, Ruby was texting and wrangling babies, and the babies were eating things and causing general chaos. I tried on a bunch of suits. They needed to have a tie on the sides because I puddle around the middle. If the bottoms are too tight  then its like roll city, but if the bottoms are too big then everyone will get a big old wad of va-jay when I get smacked by the first big wave. So nothing really worked (I guess that’s what I get for trying to buy an $8 suit). I’m getting dressed, Ruby is texting and keeping the boys from eating size tags, and the boys are causing general chaos when something sticks to my hand. Without thinking I slapped it on Ruby’s hand and said “Happy Birthday, here’s some vagina.” Ruby looked down stunned. There was a bathing suit pantyliner stuck to the back of her hand. She screamed. Ruby tried to shake it off, I laughed uncontrollably and the kids were all over the place, still eating stuff and still causing general chaos. I told Ruby that I didn’t use that panty liner, which made her (understandably)  more upset. Strange Vagina. Nice. And she was worried about the boys eating size tags and getting germs. Hehehe.

And since I have nothing more to blog about (there is a spoon with ice cream on it calling my name slow-dancing with a half finished glass of wine), I will leave you with a bunch of pictures Ruby took.

Man, it’s good to be back in SF.

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