Thursday, December 20, 2012
I go back and forth, between feeling I should be more age appropriate in my performing desires (blah, boring) and saying to hell with it, age be damned. I lean toward the latter (for now), constantly inspired as I am by other people's performances.
Favorite Aunt Pat bought tickets to Donny & Marie's Christmas show at the Pantages. It was her early Christmas present to me. I had been reading good things about the show on facebook, but neither of us expected to enjoy the show as much as we did.
The show was a good mix of traditional Christmas songs, pop tunes, and the Osmonds' well-known hits from forty years ago. All age groups were in the audience, so it was a great show for those of us old enough to remember when they were "a little bit country, and a little bit rock and roll" on their Friday night variety show.
There were no Ice Angels skating on the stage . . . But I didn't know that they would have a chorus of dancers! Four young women and four young men added a lot of fun energy to the numbers. It was like watching a topnotch revue on board a cruise ship.
Marie jokingly inserted references to Nutrisystem, and Donny kept lording over her the fact that he had won his round of Dancing With the Stars. Donny is 55, now, and I watched closely as he kept up with the other male dancers less than half his age. The guy rocks like the white boy that he is, in the hip hop numbers, but the point is that he still rocks!
And they look good, both of them, on top of being as vocally strong as ever. I don't have five decades of lifetime performing to fall back on, the way that the Osmond siblings do. But I am inspired! If they can still kick it on stage, then I still have a few years left to continue auditioning for local shows.
I can't wait!
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Well, there went six years of my life.
I was fired from my job last week, from the film school in LA.
I am okay, grateful, even, which was a little surprising.
I am fine, mostly because I am covered, financially, even emotionally.
It was not completely unexpected. I had been spoken to, earlier in the year, about the option of leaving on my own, voluntarily. Instead, I asked for a probation period to attempt, once again, to improve my performance, to increase my numbers.
I am only mildly devastated, if at all (Am I in shock? Will I feel it later, like a paper cut?). It was a good job, a great job, even, at times. But I didn't love it. I enjoyed the customer service aspect of it, but not the sales part. I didn't want to take advantage of anyone.
I didn't hate my job, but I wasn't thriving in it. Mostly, I just focused on being grateful to be employed at all in our recent economy.
But no more commuting in freeway traffic, at least for now. No more forty-five hour work weeks, and no more Saturday open house shifts once a month.
It was my first real job after years of waiting tables between far-too-few performing jobs in theme parks and on cruise ships. So, for that I will always be grateful, my first real world work experience.
For now, I will focus on cleaning the clutter out of my house. I will be the anti-hoarder (except for the Furbies, of course). I will inquire about volunteer opportunities while I search online and apply for job positions. I will practice my musical theater songs for upcoming auditions.
And I will write. Now I have no excuse not to start blogging regularly again. I will make an honest effort to complete the rough draft of my young adult novel, Scooter Boy. I may even put pen to paper and fingers to keyboard, to jot down a first draft of the drag queen revue that's been bubbling around my mind for the last few years.
I will meditate on where I want to be six years from now, and let that help me make my decisions over the next few weeks.
I will remain optimistic, even though I know I may not be able to keep feeling so every single day.
Phoenix rising, again.