Wrapping up...

Well, several months later, I'm writing again to say my first national tour went well! I had a great time and learned a lot about myself, both as a person and as a performer. I loved spending time with the great people in my cast and it was very cool seeing different parts of the country.

Thank you for reading and checking in on me in this new adventure.

Another is forthcoming...

On a Different Note...

I just watched a documentary called Spirit of the Marathon on Netflix. It's about various runners of the Chicago Marathon and their reasons for running, along with their challenges and triumphs along the way. I enjoyed it! Check it out if you get a chance.

I ran the Houston marathon in January of 2004. I thought I'd share some of my experiences.

Growing up, I HATED running. I played basketball most of my life and my experience with running was pretty much linked to punishment. If we didn't complete our sprint conditioning in the right amount of time at the end of a two hour practice, we had to run some more. If we lost a game, we ran. If we missed a free throw in a game, we ran. If someone was late to practice, we ALL ran. In fact, no words were more menacing to hear than, "Put the balls away." When we didn't execute a play correctly or when someone forgot that leaning on a wall while watching the others work on the court is strictly forbidden, those words were even more terrifying. It meant we were running for as long as Coach wanted. It meant that we never knew if we were one Suicide away from finishing or fifty. (If you don't know what a Suicide is, don't ask.)

When I got to college, I continued to play basketball recreationally, but I was looking for something else. St. Mary's didn't have a recognized Cross Country team because there needed to be enough proven interest from the student body to hire a coach. I was part of the first few years of the St. Mary's Cross Country Club! In fact, I was the Secretary!

The morning of my first run with the other girls, it was still dark outside and we met in one of the school parking lots. Our club president had mapped out a three mile course around the campus. Everyone was so excited about running together and they were chatty and getting loose while waiting for the group to assemble. I just stood there quietly and stretched a little. For all my excitement about getting involved with the group, when the time came, I was not happy to be running at all. It was early. I was cold. I hadn't had much sleep. I was hungry. I just kept thinking..."This is the first time I can remember running VOLUNTARILY in my life." Usually when I run, I'm quivering a little inside as I hunch over my starting leg, behind the baseline, staring at the length of the court, waiting for the whistle to startle me into running for my life. What the hell was I doing out here in the dark, at six in the morning with these bouncy runner-types about to explode with joy with the thought of a good run?! The most I'd ever run was two miles. On distance conditioning days, two miles were all Coach had time to give us before herding us into the gym for more "practical" workout exercises. Now, I would be running farther than I'd ever run before...of my own volition? Without a whistle and stopwatch judging my worth? Wow.

The president said, "Let's start!" and we did. I stayed in the pack, not saying much, feeling out my body as I listened to night noises and watched the stars twinkle. I knew I'd be ok up to the end of the second mile because I'd done that distance before. I had no idea what to expect one step into the third mile.

What I found in the third mile was... a great release of pressure. There were no expectations for me there. I was already doing great because I was boldly going where no ME had ever gone before! It didn't matter if I collapsed and died on the spot. I would have died breaking my personal record! Amazing! Ok, that's a morbid thought, but hey, I was in the third mile. I was allowed to have whatever thoughts I wanted! It was pretty good! I spent the next month or so getting to know the world of the Third Mile. It was a friendly place that congratulated me whenever I visited, so I liked it.

At St. Mary's the most I ever ran was six miles. I did it once and I believed I never, ever had to do it again. It was pretty big deal. The running club did well and we eventually got a part-time coach to volunteer to help us prepare for college meets. I only ran in one, but it was fun! Cross Country eventually became a Varsity sport at St. Mary's and I feel pretty proud that I was part of the reason why. I am glad my early morning runs meant something because now girls get scholarships to run as a Lady Rattler at St. Mary's University. (I never would have made the ACTUAL team! Haha!)

After college, I worked with a guy, Edgar, who was into running and there were several of us that ran 5Ks together throughout the year. A 5K is just over three miles. It usually took me 30 minutes on the nose. I could have trained harder and lowered my time, but I still ran pretty hard for those 30 minutes, so I was fine with that. I had a large collection of t-shirts that you get after finishing the races. I like tangible things that say I DID THIS!

One day Edgar decided to organize a marathon training group from work. I had no interest in running a marathon, never have. It's not that I didn't think I could do it; I just never thought about marathons at all. He assured us it was for beginners and it would take several months to complete, we wouldn't even feel it! I was sure that was a lot of baloney, but I decided to start the program just so I could think about training for some longer races, like the 8K or a 10K. I was sure that would be plenty.

We started with three mile runs, as slowly as we could go. It was pretty easy. We learned how to stretch before and after, we ran some sprints on the track. It was varied and pretty fun. We picked up some non-work folks, friends and family and that made it even more fun! Shawn got in on it, as well as a high school buddy of mine that had moved to San Antonio.

The training progressed and I progressed with it. Edgar was right...I didn't really feel the training build in any kind of painful way. Soon, five miles felt like three miles, seven miles was like five miles...each week, we just tacked on a little bit more to what we had been doing. I had meant to bow out of the program after about 8 miles, but around 13 miles, I started to wonder if I should just finish the whole thing.

We had started on the campus of UT San Antonio, but as our distances increased, we branched off and started running up some hills near Fiesta, Texas amusement park and then added some running on the feeder roads of I-10. I couldn't believe how much ground we were covering...on foot! It was nuts!

During the training process, I only "flaked out" once. I was on a 15 mile run, but somewhere around Mile 7, I decided I didn't feel like running anymore. I wasn't tired. I wasn't injured. I was just--bored, I guess. I just didn't feel like running. I was on the I-10 feeder, heading in the direction of Bandera, near that Rudy's BBQ and Las Palapas Mexican restaurant. The freeway was empty, it was early on a Saturday morning. I told the group I wouldn't be finishing and they went on. For some reason, Shawn wasn't running with the big group that day, so she was at home. I called her and asked her to come pick me up. I'd be at a table for one at Las Palapas, feasting on breakfast tacos. They were yummy! I was back on track for the next practice. No biggie. It just wasn't happening for me that day.

Shawn didn't "flake out" at all. Hers was more of a "flip out". One day we were running together but without the big group because we had some kind of schedule conflict. Usually, we ran in the early mornings, but that day, we had to run around 10 or 11am. Everything seemed fine, we were chatting as we ran, although I was keeping up the majority of the conversation. Shawn didn't grow up as an athlete, so she has to work a little harder to remind herself to keep going, even when she's tired. She didn't develop that ability to ignore what you're doing to your body and just live in a different part of your brain, a different "head space", as I like to call it. So, we'd been running about five miles and I noticed that a little bird was flying kind of low, near us. Every so often, it would fly ahead and then perch on something, waiting for us to catch up, then it would fly ahead again. I kept checking to see if it was a coincidence, but it happened several times. I told Shawn about it, but she wasn't really interested. Something told me that was weird because she's usually very interested in nature stuff, but she didn't even look at the bird when I tried to show her. She wasn't talking as much either. I figured she was just going through a little rough patch or maybe she needed to make a shoe-tying pit stop soon. So I stopped chatting and just watched the bird by myself as we kept running.

We ran another couple of miles. The bird had long gone and I'd found something else to jabber about. Suddenly, Shawn disappeared from my peripheral vision. I turned back to look and she was just standing there, completely still. I asked her what was wrong and she LIT ME UP! I don't even remember what all she said, but there was something about What's wrong with ME? and You're crazy! and You're a F***ing Robot! and You just keep going and you never stop and you keep talking! and Why aren't you tired? and You haven't changed pace for miles! and ...stuff like that. Then she said she was done. She wasn't going to run any more. She was crying on the feeder road. I was dumbstruck on the feeder road. I looked around and we were still a few miles from our car, snugly parked at UTSA! She was done, fine, but how were we going to get back?! I pictured myself running the rest of the way while she sat crying on the curb waiting for me. Then, I saw a gas station. I whipped her around and unzipped her fanny pack. I grabbed her debit card and sprinted to the store to buy her some water and a snack. I tore open the door and ran to the back for the water. I looked up and down the aisles for a protein bar of some kind. I scribbled her name on the receipt as she walked in the store. I gave her the water and she apologized, her face tear-stained. We stood in the shade and figured out our next move. She was miserable, but she said she felt a little better and could make it the rest of the way. I was fully prepared for another meltdown, but she made it!

Later that day, we realized she'd been sunburned. The sky was overcast so we didn't think about sun. Also, we were used to running in the early morning hours and we completely forgot sunblock for our late-morning run. The poor thing was out there flirting with heat stroke and a sunburn and I'm commenting about this amazing little bird that was hanging out with us. No wonder she got mad!

For the record, we were running side by side out there, but I didn't burn. That wasn't received well either. But now we know...robots don't get sunburns.

Shawn got back out there and continued the training. I admire that. You can't give up, even when you have a setback like the now legendary Meltdown on I-10. However, she did the right thing by listening to her body and opted to run the Houston Half-Marathon because of the condition of her knees. I think thirteen miles is an incredible feat. It was her personal record.

I found myself signed up for the full marathon and in the back of my mind, I kept wondering why I was doing this. It wasn't a nagging dread of the upcoming run...it was just a casual wonder about it all. My parents hosted the group overnight and cooked a wonderful chicken and pasta dinner the night before. I looked forward to the next day, but I had no idea what to expect, so I wasn't nervous.

What I didn't know I had to look forward to was getting my period ON MARATHON DAY. What the hell, man? WHY????

Ok, men reading this, you may or may not know... the 3-7 days every month that a woman has to deal with the reward of NOT getting pregnant is actually a roller coaster ride of careful observations and decisions about:

1. How her body feels (to judge medicinal dosages)

2. What will be physically be required of her that day

3. What food to eat to avoid life-threatening cramps (I had to pull off the road one time)

4. What clothes will fit

5. And how big her purse has to be

These are practices learned and practiced since junior high. By your 20s and 30s, a woman has had enough accidents, near misses, and humiliation to plan for just about any scenario. Except the scenario where she's about to run her first MARATHON. This girl is about to run 26.2 miles, is hoping the elastic waistband in her "they were comfortable YESTERDAY" running shorts will expand about 6 inches for the serious bloating that's about to occur, and now has to figure out where to carry 8 hours worth of tampons when no one ELSE will be running with a giant handbag.

While God did not see fit to rearrange my menstrual cycle by, oh I don't know, ONE DAY....He did allow for this marathon to be in January, creating the need for me to wear a light running jacket, with pockets. They were going to be stuffed with my phone and granola bars, but now my phone would be sharing that valuable real estate with a box of tampons. Awesome.

Well, I ran the marathon. I didn't run very fast, probably around a 13 minute mile on average. I made 3 port-a-potty trips, convinced my stomach was about to explode, only to have nothing happen but 15 minutes come off the clock. I only walked to greet my parents cheering me on in two different spots on the course. They'd gone out for a pancake breakfast in between. Nice. Somewhere in the No Man's Land between Mile 20 and Mile 24, my stomach started growling. I was starving. Too bad I had a pocket full of feminine products instead of granola bars.

They say runners hit the "wall" when their blood has used all of it's sugar stores. That's why the carbo load the night before is so important. The pasta carbs break down into the extra sugar that the body is going to desperately need on race day. I can't really say I hit a "wall", although who knows what kind of havoc my period was wreaking on my body. I was definitely already in a different "robotic head space", as Shawn would attest. "I'm exhausted from running more than 20 miles and, oh yeah, I'm also losing blood. "

There was a little girl in the crowd ahead, cheering for people and handing them something from a styrofoam cup. I ran to her, hoping there was food. There was...sort of. All she had left in her cup were two little gummy bears. She gave them to me and I thanked her like they were turkey sandwiches.

Dear Mr. Yellow Bear and Mr. Red Bear,

Please give me enough sugar to finish this run.

Love,

Christina

Apparently I was in the head space where Bears receive mail. Whatever. I ate them and imagined them happily sacrificing themselves to dissolve into my bloodstream to give me a noticeable chemical boost. I made myself believe that and when that ran out, I began to hear a crowd cheering. That sound gave me hope that the finish line was near! How near, who knew? It was like I got thrown back into basketball practice...Run! Run your guts out, but for how long is anyone's guess. Just run and pray it'll all be over soon! I felt myself running faster, but I don't think I actually was. My muscles were giving me everything they had. I cheered them on in my mind...C'mon, y'all! You can do it! Give me just a little bit more. You've been so good to me all these years, Go a little longer, We're almost there. We're about to finish a freakin' MARATHON!

And then I crossed the finish line. Shawn met me and hugged me and walked me to the reception area where there was food and water and chairs. Heaven. I was so tired. I didn't get that "runner's high" either. I thought I would finish and feel like I could take on the world, but when I finished, I just felt...pride. Satisfaction. It was another affirmation that I may not finish in the front of the pack, but I always show up, try my hardest, and hope for the best. And good things usually come of that.

I slept the whole way home. I woke up to find my parents had made a banner with all our names on it and hung it across the garage. That made me feel so great! We all cheered!

I couldn't walk the next day. In fact, I couldn't run for a whole year after that. I hadn't had any injuries during training or the run itself, but my knees screamed every time I tried to trot more than a few feet. I eventually got back to normal, but I haven't run longer than thirty minutes at a time since then. I'm just not interested.

Many people are very emotional after they finish their first marathon. They've run to prove something to themselves, to someone significant, for charity, for a life change. I still don't know why I ran my marathon. I wasn't emotional about it. I just finished and was glad. I decided to simply keep the experience with me because I might need it someday. I'll want to remember that I'm capable of great things. I might be faced with something that will require feats of superhuman strength of mind and body. I might be called upon to help someone find their own robotic head spaces so that they can get through something tough. Who knows when talking to birds that are following you and writing short letters to gummy bears will get you through something really, really hard?

----

In 1928, women were finally allowed to compete in running events at the Olympics. But we weren't allowed to run longer than 800 meters (that's twice around the track). It was common knowledge that women simply aren't built for strenuous activity. Our bodies are built to have babies, not to run. In fact, scientists and health professionals were sure that running any more than 800 meters would possibly lead to "the uterus falling out".

Well, I ran 26.2 miles with my uterine lining "falling out", so maybe they were a teensy bit right.

Jerks.

California to Arizona

Today we had quite a busy day traveling. Who knew there were so many landscapes to see between San Diego, CA and a teensy place called Heber, AZ? We climbed up and down two mountains, saw a desert oasis and crawled through the fog behind a snow plow. It was bananas to say the least.

The cast sleeps a lot on the drive. Actors' Equity rules call for us to take a 10 minute driving break every hour and 20 minutes. That allows for the 10 people in the van to have pretty much every bathroom need to be taken care of as needed. On all day drives those breaks can get annoying because the majority of us are sleeping and we just want to get where we're going. Sometimes we just stay in the van during the break while the potty-ers take a break.

Tonight, we made our final stop in a place called Heber, a small town at the bottom of some mountain. We're at a Best Western for the night and there's no food around. We are snacking on stuff from the vending machine and I may break into my oatmeal stash. I've been saving it for emergency stomach issues, but right now I'm just plain hungry. I'm watching National Treasure on tv. It's one of those movies I have to watch every time it comes on. I have a double bed in this room, but I don't room with anyone. It's nice to have my own space and relax, especially after a full day of driving with people all around me.

When we signed our contracts, we had the opportunity to choose if we wanted to have single or double occupancy rooms as we travel. We get a bigger amount in our per diem check if we room with someone, but none of the girls opted for that! The boys did, but there are 3 of them, so they take turns letting one boy have a single room. The boys, or I should say "men", in the cast all did the show last year at the Kennedy Center, so they already knew each other for this trip. The girls are all new. We all think it's better to just get less money in our per diem for the sake of not sharing a mirror, talking on the phone and Skype whatever hour of the day or night, and not scheduling shower routines. I think it's worth it.

We're heading for Albuquerque tomorrow and then we have a day off. We definitely want to plan something fun on our day off, so hopefully the weather will cooperate. After the shows, I'm headed home to NYC, so I am really looking forward to that! This is the longest amount of time I've ever been away from Shawn, but we're both hanging in there.

We've been planning our Texas move, but I haven't been able to make any real plans as far as booking movers, flights, and such because my schedule has been so funky. We'll get it worked out when we're finally together in a few days!

And I'm excited to see my puppy and kitty!!!!

How it all went down

So, how I booked this job...

I was in Ithaca doing the last few days of Man of La Mancha, my first regional show. There wasn't a whole lot to do on the campus where we were staying, so most of the time, I was glued to my computer doing stuff online.

The website Playbill.com posts auditions every weekday and I always check it to research what auditions are right for me. I enter them into my online calendar so I have access to them on my phone. I print out the posting and organize it among the other audition printouts I've put into chronological order in the back of my audition book. This helps me plan how long I have to prepare for auditions that might be in a month versus the following week. However, if the audition in a month is going to be intense and needs a lot of planning and rehearsal, I know to start working on it sooner than even the one happening next week. I often refer back to the printouts to make sure I've understood the exact description of what I should sing as far as how many measures and what style. The posting also details how to submit yourself for the audition.

Most of the time, performers just have to report to the audition site and sign up to be seen in order of arrival. This sounds pretty simple, but there are so many performers out there that if the audition is supposed to start at 10am, people have been waiting outside the building since 5am. Those early birds usually make an unofficial list so that people can sign up, leave, and return later after 10am. (I've arrived early, like around 7am, and been the 150th person to sign up. It's crazy!) Then someone hands the unofficial list to the monitor when they arrive, about 15 minutes before the audition start time. The monitor is the person who collects your headshots and resumes, lines you up to enter the audition room and announces you as you walk in. Usually, the monitor honors the unofficial list that people have created and just transfers all the names over to their official list, but sometimes they don't. If you came early, were 150th on the list, and estimated that you shouldn't come back until around 1pm or so, you may return to find that you didn't get put on the official list at all. Now, you're 300th on the list and they may cut off the time at 5pm so everyone who doesn't get seen by that time is just out of luck.

Sometimes, to avoid seeing every person in NYC, the producers of the show want to handpick who they're going to see, so you have to submit yourself for an audition time slot. This means you email a short coverletter, headshot and resume to the producers and ask for a time to come in. If they know you or are interested in your resume, they'll call or email you back with a time to come in. This helps them weed out the random people who aren't at the level they want or are just trying to get audition experience, etc. They may also email you "sides" or short portions of the script they want you to prepare. Since they're deciding which people to see, they also can afford to give each person a little more time in their audition than they would if they were trying to just get through as many people as possible.

When I saw the audition posting for Barrio Grrrl, I was interested because it was an "ethnic" show. I've been learning that I should go out for anything with an ethnic theme since a huge majority of the audition pool would be excluded. But when I read the description of the show, I usually realize that I still wouldn't be right for the part because I don't "act ethnic" in real life. It's a weird line you have to choose to cross because when a Hispanic woman walks into the audition room, people expect a sassy, fiery, hot Latina with big earrings who speaks with an accent and waves her arms a lot. She is usually going to play someone's secretary or maid who tells somebody off and everybody claps and laughs. That's not really me and I resent playing stereotypes, even for money. Maybe it's because it's not a stereotype I can pull off very well. I think I'm just emotionally sensitive about being seen for who I am, not what what people expect me to be, especially when that expectation is insulting. What other people are comfortable doing is their business, so I don't worry about people who don't have a problem playing a stereotype. I just know where I stand and what I'm good at.

That being said, the posting for Barrio Grrrl looked like a positive message and a fun show. As long as there wasn't any Spanish involved, I might be right for it. Reading on, I discovered that the director and choreographer were the same people who I had just worked with in Man of La Mancha.

Man of La Mancha was a wonderful experience for me and I learned so much just by being around the astronomical talent in the cast. I had been a new addition to the group; most of the cast had worked with the director before. I had been submitted by my agent for an audition for the show and it had gone really well. Being counted as someone worthy enough to work with these big-leaguers was a real honor. I had some growing pains, this being my first job out of town since graduation from AMDA. I felt like I was working really hard but that I just wasn't doing stuff as big or as dramatically as they wanted. They never said anything to me about needing to step it up or anything, but I really felt like a newbie and that was hard. By the time rehearsals were done, I felt like I'd really improved, but again, no one said anything about it, so I didn't really have any validation of my extra work. It's hard not to let your mind tell you negative things when no one is saying anything at all. I had to fight to assume that I was just doing my job and no one congratulates you for doing your job. You're a professional and you're getting paid to be amazing. It's just expected. Scary, but expected.

When I read the posting for Barrio Grrrl, I knew I should jump at it, but I was worried that maybe the team didn't care for my work and they wouldn't want to see me again. I was also worried because the posting stated that you should perform a contemporary musical theatre piece. My vocal niche is singing Traditional, Legit musical theatre. This means material like Sound of Music, Carousel, Man of La Mancha, more from the Golden Age of musical theatre, before the advent of rock and pop music, when singers were more classically trained. This is what I'm good at and what I'm comfortable with. Also, it's a good niche to be in because it's specialized and newer performers aren't usually vocally trained enough to do it. The flip side is that as theatre audiences get older and a new generation moves into the audience seats, there will be a shift to more contemporary musicals. I've been looking for material I can use, but I rarely find anything I connect with. I also struggle with it vocally because I've not been trained to "belt". That's a kind of singing where you basically end up sounding really bright and forward in the voice as you get higher in pitch. It sometimes sounds pinched and nasal, but it's kind of the standard for contemporary musical theatre. As a singer, you have to know your range, what's your lowest pitch, your highest "belt" pitch and and your highest head voice pitch, where it's a floaty, purer sound. As as classical singer, my voice is trained to flip into the head voice fairly low in my range, so when most girls are belting, I'm already in my head voice. I don't have much of a belt, but I've been working on it. It's hard for me, the same way it's hard for belters to sing in their head voice.

So, there I was, sitting on my bed in the dorms we were using while we finished the run of Man Of La Mancha, waiting for the show that night, staring at the audition posting, agonizing over whether I was "ethnic" enough, if they liked me enough to even consider seeing me for an audition and dreading what kind of contemporary song I was going to prepare. Just then, my friend walked by my room and stuck his head in and I just unloaded on him...all the things I was nervous about and whether or not I should submit myself. And he just stared at me and said, "Of course you should! All they can say is no. Or just ignore your email."

I know this. I know it's just a matter of putting yourself out there. Sometimes, you just need someone to stick their head in your doorway and tell you to quit being a weener.

So I sent the email. And I got the audition slot. I found a song that someone had done in one of my classes that I liked and I had tried but discarded because I couldn't belt that high. When I tried the song again, after having nearly 2 years pass from when I first tried it, I found that I could NOW belt that high. Practice helps a lot. When I came home from the Ithaca job, I practiced the song and worked on my sides. On the audition day, I ran into Dev, the choreographer, and he hugged me warmly and said not to be nervous, I was among friends in there.

I sang my song, which didn't go quite as well as I had rehearsed, but I kept on acting and that made the director laugh. They had originally sent me sides for 2 characters, but after I sang, they only had me read the sides for the Mom character. Then, they asked me to stay and wait for the dance call. I kind of panicked because the audition posting didn't mention anything about being ready to dance. I didn't bring dance clothes or shoes and I hadn't stretched. Luckily, I was wearing comfortable enough clothes, but I hoped it wasn't too intense. I had been taking jazz class and my teacher had recently pulled me aside to tell me that I'd really been improving and that I should feel confident at any Movers' call.

There is a difference between a Mover and a Dancer. A Mover is someone who is coordinated, knows basic dance terminology and isn't expected to be a trained dancer knowing how to lift people and do the splits and such. A Dancer is someone who's been training in dance since they were little. Audition postings usually go as far as asking for Singers Who Move versus Dancers Who Sing. You have to know what category you fall under or you could REALLY embarrass yourself.

I stayed to do the dance call (which was technically a Movers call because it was very, very basic) and it went pretty well. At the end, they sat behind the table and started flipping through our headshots, asking certain people to stay behind and work a little more. That's always hard to judge. If they don't ask you to stay, they either saw enough to know they don't want you or they saw enough to know they definitely want you. If they ask you to stay, they either didn't see enough to be convinced they want you or they think you're were great and they need to see if you fit in with the people they've already chosen. Sometimes you can be great, but you are too tall for the rest of the group and it's easier to replace you than to replace the rest of the group, even though you were great. Your mind can be brutal.

So, they called names, asking people to stay, and as they did that, I could see my headshot coming up, right away, they flipped it over and moved past me. My heart broke a little. I couldn't figure out if I had totally nailed it or if they were just being polite in seeing me all along. I had botched the end of my song, but my sides had gone really well. I had worked with them before, so they knew me, but I couldn't get a feel for what they had thought of my work, so I had nothing to go on. Those of us who didn't get asked to stay filed out and headed home or wherever people go to lick their wounds. I usually take the subway home and head straight for Europan for a slice of pepperoni pizza and a Sprite. I've decided to reward myself with the same thing whether or not I felt it went well, just so I can congratulate myself on putting myself out there and trying my hardest. Then I sit in our apartment, darkened like a cave, and re-live and recover from the immense amount of effort it takes to make something hard look easy.

I didn't hear anything more about the show for a while. I moved on to other auditions. That's the good thing about living and working in NYC, there's always another audition or class or showcase or something to prepare for. There's always something to take your mind off of your latest disaster or triumph. Life goes on, for better or worse. You've just got to keep going on with it.

I was in a rehearsal room at AMDA, working on learning some of the music for my Songs for a New World audition (which was the biggest audition I've ever had to prepare for. Ever. More on that some other time...). When I got the phone call from David at the Kennedy Center offering me the job for Barrio Grrrl, I nearly cried! I had taken such a chance. Acknowledging my personal insecurities, handling my fears dead on, and putting the best I could be out there really paid off. How life can change on a dime! With this job, I ended up getting the opportunity to become a member of Actors' Equity union, a professional actor in New York City.

And I was almost too shy and self-conscious to send that email, asking for the chance to try.

Thank you, Jaime Zatarain, for reminding me not to be a weener.

Well, hello!

I'm a little late starting this Blog, but here it is...this is my blog of my first ever tour.

I'm in my hotel on the 3rd stop of our national tour (Texarkana, TX). The entire cast and crew had the day off yesterday which was very nice. Today, the actors are off, but the crew is working at the venue, doing Load-In. That means that they are unloading the truck that holds our entire set and getting the stage ready for us to perform on tomorrow. They hang the lights, build our set, plug-in our sound cues, test our sound levels, and test all the equipment. It's a pretty big job. We depend on them to make our set seem the same in every venue, even when the venues are different sizes.

We have 4 crew members: Andrew is the production manager and is basically in charge of all the technical nuts and bolts (literally) of assembling the set. Elif is our wardrobe supervisor. She sets all the wardrobe pieces where we need them in the wings and backstage and in order of the show. She helps us with quick costume changes backstage and makes sure we can't be seen in the wings from the audience. Andrew and Elif are both backstage during the show helping with moving the set pieces, replacing props after we use them and being on hand if we forget something. C.C. is our lighting supervisor and makes sure all the venues have hung the right colored lights in the right places so that we have all the warmth and drama of the lighting that was designed by the people at The Kennedy Center. Kristin is our sound supervisor and she makes sure our microphones are on and off at the right times, as well as making sure we can hear ourselves in the sound monitors onstage. The monitor speakers are different than the speakers the audience hears during the show. They sit in the wings and face the stage so we can hear ourselves and adjust to blend with each other as well as hear the sound effects cues.

The entire cast and crew is under the direction of Malia, our stage manager. She sits in the booth at the back of the venues and "calls the show". This means that she is on a headset with the rest of the crew and she reads along with the script and tells the crew when to execute which cue. For example, when I am playing the waiter and I'm describing the restaurant, she gives Kristin the cue to play the Restaurant Music which sounds like a big flourish. When I hear that cue, I come out the front door and start my lines. She tells C.C. to bring the lights to a beautiful warm orange as I move to Stage Left (this is the audience's right as they look at the stage) to describe the sunset. Then as I make a big cross to Stage Right and talk about the charms of the Caribbean moon, Malia gives the cue to C.C. to bring up the cool blue lights. It's so cool because I can see the lights come on as I say an exact word every time. Then I exit and get ready for a quick change and Elif is on the headset telling Malia if I'm going to make it on time as she helps me zip my boots and ensures I didn't forget to take off my earrings.

It's a pretty tight ship as Malia and the crew make sure everything and everyone on stage is out and back in time and in the right clothes and sounding good and lit correctly. I've never been on a crew before, but it looks really hard and it certainly takes a certain kind of person to do it well. We have a great group.

Of course, sometimes there are little slip-ups, but it's not too big of a deal. In the last show, for example, I finished singing my song and the light is supposed to dim on me before the girl playing the Amazing Voice is supposed to go on with her line. But the light didn't dim until much later than usual. I was standing there longer than I normally do because I wait for the light to dim before I turn around to exit. It was kind of weird. I'm not sure if Malia didn't give the light cue at the right time or if C.C.'s light board didn't respond correctly. In times like that, you just keep acting and pretend like it was supposed to be that way. And then you laugh at it afterward. It happens, even with people trying their hardest. Sometimes, the actor switches a line or does something different by accident and then Malia has to catch up the cues to follow what happened unexpectedly.

The actors help by trying to keep everything the same show after show, down to the details of STAND HERE for this costume change, wait in the wings until THIS VERSE before moving backstage so you don't get in people's way as they exit, take your props off the table at the same time so Elif knows you have what you need. The props are always in the same place so everyone knows where their stuff is. Before the we get changed into our costumes, we all meet onstage for sound checks of our microphones and to check the monitor levels. We walk through our fast changes and make sure we know how to run around the back of the stage to get to the other side.

The cast is a fun group. There are 7 actors, 4 play kids in the show and the rest of us play the adults. All the men in the cast were in the show the first time around when it played at The Kennedy Center last year. All the women are new to the show. We all work well together and everyone's upbeat and easy to get along with. I'll try to post some interviews with these folks so you can get to know them a little bit.

So, as I said, I'm currently in my hotel in Texarkana, already on this tour. But I started on this trip several months ago when I was trying to get the guts to audition. I'll talk about how I started this show in my next blog entry.