The Thing About Horseshoes...

Got your attention? Good.

Sorry for the mislead, but what I really want to talk about is time. It's a fascinating thing. The way it can drag like a turtle carrying a cement block through partially hardened molasses, or gallop like a stallion wearing roller blades with a jet pack strapped to its back. You know what I'm talking about. I can remember being 20 and thinking how far away 21 (and legal drinking) was. Yet, by the time I reached 21, I had grown past the fantasy of all-night drinking parties (I never even had one of those, but I remember thinking how cool it would be once I was of legal age. Sigh. I was so young.)

I guess my point is (and, yes, I am aware that I have wandered a bit) I'm sorry it took so long to update.


I have just reread the sentence above, and laughed out loud. I may have even snorted. Sometimes I am entirely too impressed with my own cleverness... Still, I suggest you take a moment to reread it as well. Go on. I'll wait.


Now that that's out of the way, let's go to the very important news that I have.

Some of you already know this, so feel free to skip ahead.

In February, a few days before my birthday, I went to an audition. I had seen a post on Backstage.com which simply said, "Myers International Management, casting for it's upcoming season." I didn't really know what it was all about, but I submitted my headshot and resume anyway. I then received an e-mail with an audition date and time which happened to be the same day that I was getting on the train to spend a week in PA. The time they had given me was just early enough that I could do both, but even so, my initial reaction was to just cancel the audition altogether. "I'll be stressed out about traveling, anyway," I thought. But then I stopped and reconsidered. It would probably be a fairly simple audition, just go in, sing, get out, and then I'll be on my way home without a care in the world and won't feel guilty about skipping out on an audition. So, I responded that the audition date was fine, but could I move my time up a little?

I didn't get a response, and once again, I almost gave up. But my stubbornness superseded my reluctance, and I decided that I would just go to the audition at the time that I wanted, and see if they could see me early.

I went to Penn Station first, to drop off my bag (ticketed passengers of Amtrak can leave their bags in storage for up to a day) then headed to the audition.

They were running behind when I arrived, but the monitor promised to make space for me. Originally, we were supposed to sing two songs. That had been pared down to 16 bars of two songs. As I waited, it became "one song, and keep it short." I went in with 16 bars of my best piece: Say That We're Sweethearts Again. When I finished, they asked me for a second piece. This is always a good sign. It's also why shorter is better; you should always leave them wanting more. I sang Wild and Reckless for my second piece, but messed up the beginning the first time, and had to start again. "Great," I thought, "now I've blown it."

One of the men behind the desk asked me when I had graduated from high school, and I told him. He nodded, made a note, and thanked me for coming in.

I was free.

At the time, I really didn't care how I'd done, I was just glad it was over, and that I would be spending a relaxing week with my Mom and sister.

Almost a month later I received an e-mail. "We were very impressed with your audition and would like to add you to our roster. Please let us know a time when we can meet to discuss this further."

Huh?

I immediately typed in "Myers International Management" to the Internet and found their website. It's very impressive. Go check it out sometime. Really.

However, it didn't actually provide me with the information I wanted. Who are these people? Are they a theatre company that puts on productions? Are they a talent agency? And, more importantly, what do they want with me?

Long story short: I met with John Myers, the head of the company. They are agents to actors, managers to opera singers, and producers of several independent films. And they want me. They only want to sign about a dozen people (only three of which are non-union) and they want ME!!

So, I have an agent now.

I'm not sure I can explain just how rare this is. To get an agent before you join the union, or, in fact, do any performing outside of school, is frankly incredible. Not only that, but they are genuinely nice people, very encouraging, and very laid back. John told me he has a knack for finding talent that go on to have great careers, which is both flattering and sort of frightening. And here we come to the reason that I haven't written about this until now.

After that first meeting, I was happy. I was glowing with shiny, sparkly happiness that fairly dripped off of me. But that passed within a half hour. And then I wasn't happy. I wasn't excited. (I'm happy now, so I've gotten past this, I'm just giving you an honest account of what was happening in my life a few weeks ago.) I kept trying to get the euphoria back. "They want to sign me," I would say to myself, "that's a VERY good thing!" But no matter how I tried, I couldn't feel happy about it. I thought calling my family or telling my roommates would do the trick. I arrived at my apartment, opened the door and called out in a hopeful tone. No one was home. Secretly relieved, I went to my room and tried to work up the proper excited tone to call my Mom. I called, but no one answered, and once again, I felt a little relieved. I left a cheery message, then tried my sister. Same story. I tried to call Kathleen, but couldn't make myself. I was too exhausted, too frustrated with myself. "What is wrong with me?" I couldn't help thinking. "I should be jumping for joy. Why can't I just feel happy?!"

The trouble with big life changes (and yes, this counts as a big life change) is that they bring up lots of different emotions, and not all of them are good. Moving, for example. Maybe you've bought a beautiful house in your dream city, and now you get to move out of your cramped apartment and leave the dreary city that has been your home for the last three years of your life. You're happy to be moving out. Thrilled that you will be living like a king as opposed to the least favorite cow. And yet.
That was your home. That cramped apartment sheltered you. There are memories there, good and bad. You find yourself missing the tiny kitchen, and the incredibly loud Mexican music that your neighbors played EVERY weekend. The same songs. Over. And over. And, annoying as it was, it was your life. The one constant in your constantly shifting life.

I've strayed.

What it all boils down to is fear. Fear of failure. It's easier to fail if you haven't really tried. But if you put your heart into something, really make an effort, then it hurts all the more if you fail. I have been fighting such negative thoughts since I moved to NY to pursue an acting career. Heck, I've been fighting those thoughts all my life. I think everyone does. The key is to keep fighting. And I think, for the most part, I've waged my battle well. I'm here, aren't I? And every time I make the decision not to turn off the alarm and pull the covers over my head, but to get up, make myself pretty and go to an audition, is a victory.

And then this magnificent gift was given to me, and for a moment, the negative thoughts won. What if they suddenly come to their senses and realize they don't want me? What if I get a job, and then mess it up? What if I can't do this?

Here it is: my chance for success. I can either take it and run with it, or sit back and watch it pass me by. Well, let the universe witness, I am going to sprint like a long-distance runner being chased by armored, spear-carrying bees. Are these similes doing anything for you?

So there it is. My neuroses revealed. I haven't shared much of my inner feelings on this blog, and even now I bookend it with jokes and silly images, but I think I've grown a lot in the last few days, and I wanted to share.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have comic books to read.

Love,
Jules

PS-I'll explain the thing about horseshoes in the next post. See you then!
PPS-I was unsure about the use of simile versus metaphor, but thought I remembered the simple rule "if you use 'like' or 'as' then it's a simile". I just looked it up on dictionary.com, and I was right. Language is fun!