First page of the book archive.

on buying a book.

Posted by jessica on Aug 14, 2010 with 19 Comments
in Thoughts and Feelings, Uncategorized
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Yesterday I went to the bookstore to buy a book that my therapist recently told me to read. Actually, what she said was, “Have you read this?” And simultaneously handed me a tiny post-it note with a title scrawled across it. I looked at it and then looked at her and asked, “I assume you’re referring to a book, and not just these four words? Because, I did just read this,” and I motioned to the post-it, “And you’re right, I do feel better now.”

And then she started laughing. And then I did too. And I guess it was a good moment, both my therapist and I laughing together like life is just the funniest thing. But she assured me that no, it is a book that she was referring to. But wouldn’t it be great if a post-it note could make you feel instantaneously better? Or actually, it’s more of a combination of a post-it note and the right four words, I guess.

But this is why I was at the book store on a Thursday evening. And I will tell you that I do love the bookstore. I love basically everything about it. The rows and rows you can seclude yourself in; the few chairs you can find if you look hard enough, one of which you can actually sit in, if you’re lucky; the idea that you are sharing space with so many things smarter than you. I am not so great at figuring amounts when it comes to numbers of people or objects (but animals? man, I am spot-on when it comes to sizing up how many animals are in any given area. okay, not really, but I thought it was funny that I didn’t mention animals, but mentioned everything else). But anyway, I figure so many things is an adequate way to describe all the books in a bookstore, right?

But the only time I don’t love a bookstore is when I have to find one specific book. I feel like it is the perfect equivalence to finding that dreaded needle in a haystack (but why are you sewing among the hay, anyway?). And I get overwhelmed. I feel like I’d have a better chance at winning the lottery or going off and writing my own version of the book I am trying to find before I actually find it among so very many things (which is how I am referring to all those books, if you’ll remember).

And usually, I just go up and ask for help. I really have no trouble with this kind of thing at all. I ask people for directions all the time. I ask salespeople in stores for my size, without hesitation. When I was living in New York, rehearsing ACL, I really wanted to go to Bryant Park and I knew that it was super close, I just didn’t quite know how to get there. So I conjured up my best British accent in order to ask a passerby where the park was, so as not to make that person think I was actually someone who had been to New York before, let alone as many times as I actually had, and still didn’t know how to get to Bryant Park. And good thing, too, because I do believe that the directions I got were something along the lines of, “Just keep walking that way.”

But see, this particular title. Well, it’s a doozy.  And I will say that it’s not exactly the kind of book you want to let everyone know that you’re reading. Or, for that matter, why. But after searching for it on my own and coming up empty handed, I marched straight to the information booth, cause I was done looking.

Luckily the man behind the booth was very kind with a smile that does wonders in terms of customer service. If he had had a tip jar, I think I would have used it. I asked him if the store had the book I was after, and he told me to come to the computer and type in the title. And then, I don’t know why, but I got really nervous. He was watching me, and already I was embarrassed that I was looking for this particular book, and so I started typing like I had never even seen a computer before. And like I had never even spelled a word before, either. And in my confusion, I completely messed up the title, swapping one entirely embarrassing word for another one.

And that’s when nothing came up, over and over again. And he was all, “Are you sure that’s the title, sweetie?”And “Maybe it’s something else, honey…” cause nothing would come up, and even though it was kind of nice to be called so many terms of endearment, what I really wanted was that book and then to get the heck out of dodge. After paying for it, though, don’t you worry.

But then I finally remembered the actual word that is in the title, told him of my mistake right after I had my epiphany, and we laughed a long time together about that one.

And that tiny little post-it note is still on my dashboard, in order to remind me to buy that book. And I guess I’d better remember to put it somewhere else, because that’s gonna be an interesting conversation with whomever is in my car with me next.

the time I had my first audition of the new year

Posted by jessica on Jan 7, 2010 with 24 Comments
in Funny Stuff, Performance, Thoughts and Feelings
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Today I went to New York and back.

It was time.

And for the occasion, I even got a new shirt complete with a big face on it that I first thought was Michael Jackson but then came to the conclusion that it was just some lady’s face. And then I sort of wore the shirt as a dress. You can do that when you wear leggings; it’s like magic, the way they transform a longish shirt into a very shortish dress.

But the reason I went to the city was to go sing for some people that have the power to cast me in a Broadway show. I’ve found that to be the key to getting jobs. Singing for those people, I mean. I enjoy singing for everybody, don’t get me wrong, but singing in my bedroom isn’t going to get me a show. Not unless those aforementioned people are in my bedroom too, but that just raises a whole slew of other questions I am not going to get into now.

So I go into the audition room and it’s just how it always is. A few people behind a table. An accompanist at the piano. A whole lot of nothing else. Except me, of course. Me and my book and my smile that says it’d be a really good idea to hire me, you know.

And for some reason I decide not to sing my whole song. I cut it down to 24 bars or so and those 24 bars go well. My only problem is that I am never quite sure where to look when I am singing about 4 feet away from the casting people. I mean, if I stare right at them, it’s creepy; if I look above and just past them, it’s reminiscent of some kind of televangelist who is conjuring up their future or something. Might as well just roll my eyes into the back of my head while I’m at it.

I compromise: I look at the tops of their heads.

And when I stop, they ask, Is that all? Can you sing more? Something else maybe?

Now this is a good thing and I know this is a good thing. Nobody ever wants more of something they don’t like. Especially not a casting director who has already sat through tons of hopefuls and let’s be real, it’s only 11:30 am.

The problem is I’ve committed the classic rookie mistake. Everybody knows you should only put music in your audition book that you know and can sing at the drop of a hat. But still, I have music in my book that I don’t know. That I don’t even remember putting in my book, actually.

I can sing Natural Woman for you, I suggest, hoping they’ll take this since it’s something I have and something I know.

Nope, he says. Needs to be broadway. Legit. A standard, he emphasizes.

Which is when the accompanist lands on something in my book, She has The Man I Love.

I do? I think, wracking my brain for that song, realizing that I don’t know it.

Uh-oh…Because I. Don’t. Know. It.

Great, the casting director says, Sing that.

I start walking towards the piano and as I do, I apologize. I’ve been on the road with A Chorus Line for a long time, I explain. I haven’t looked at my book in a while and I don’t really know that song.

That’s fine, the director says kindly, You can sight sing for us.

Great, I think. Sight singing. Just what I want to be doing in front of the casting director. Ugh.

But he starts playing and luckily the melody isn’t so tricky. It’s actually a little bit bluesy, this song, and I appreciate that. I’m having a good time, singing it pretty well. The verse gives way to a chorus and I try to pretend like I know it. It actually goes smoothly. Kind of. It ends low, on a D, and I’ve always gotten along well with a D and I’m also happy it’s over.

The director says I have a beautiful voice and I am going to be honest, compliments make me happy. He asks me how my dancing is and we talk a bit about being on the road. Then he tells me, I am going to ask you one more thing.

Um, anything! I think.

Seriously, directors can ask anything of auditionees and by goodness, we will do it or die trying. I once saw a guy do a tumbling pass to impress a director who had asked for anyone who can tumble to demonstrate. He might have overcompensated though, because this guy’s last back handspring landed on the production team’s table, knocking over some coffee and almost sending him right out the open window.

And can you believe that the poor guy didn’t get the job?

But the director asks me to sing the end of All that Jazz. It’s a big brassy belt. It’s hot and I’m excited to do it. I practice once and my voice forgets how to belt. The pianist looks at me and says, This is pie for your voice, you’ve got this. So I do it for real this time and it feels great. Like singing in the shower great. They all nod like I am the horse they were betting on and I have just won and didn’t they tell everyone I would win? It feels good.

As I leave I tell them that I like that song, The Man I Love, that I think I am going to learn it.

We all laugh and they say, You should; it sounds really good on your voice.

I walk out having no idea what, if anything, will come of this audition. But it sure does feel absolutely worth it to feel like you’ve at least made a good impression.

And I wasn’t kidding about The Man I Love, either.

I am going to learn it, since it’s already in my book and all.

strong like an ostrich (and bless the lonely hearts).

Posted by jessica on Dec 23, 2009 with 7 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, MP3
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Lately people have been quick to tell me that I am strong. But what is strong? Is it reading the same book that you just read all over again because it filled you with such good things the first time around? Is it needing people to ask you how you are doing, while at the [...]

story

Posted by jessica on Oct 8, 2009 with No Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
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Yesterday I spent three whole hours all by myself at Borders. Okay, so not quite by myself. I parked myself at the apex of a small triangle of overstuffed chairs and the three of us were only too happy to politely ignore each other in shared communal silence. I read a book. A whole book. [...]