Sunday, September 28, 2008
hello, old friend.
2:24 AM
so draw me in technicolour, baby
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two more days till ass. week is officially over.
today I (yes, long self-involved narrative coming up)
got back home and ran on the treadmill while watching "OC: Beachy Couture" on the seventh dvd of the second season of the OC, which was fun, because they brought the stylists in to talk about why they made the characters wear what they did, and stuff, no I'm not a bimbo; I just like clothes, and mixing and matching, and playing with makeup.
and then I very dutifully went to revise for biology and ma2104. this is my last time ever studying science for THE REST OF MY LIFE can you believe it? this is what we call "history in the making".
moment of silence please.
last night I had a really weird dream.
and it didn't make much sense, even to me, but in my dream I knew what was going on; I knew who you were meeting later on; and I knew what you weren't telling me and liars don't get to put their arms around my shoulders :) yes so i was a bitch and it was just a dream but i can be a dream bitch too can't I.
yesterday's auditions went okay, I think, I hope.
i took an old cargo lift up to the second level of the singapore repertory theatre centre and the lift was kinda scary-- like get-knocked-out-and-kidnapped-in kinda scary.
only kidding.
but it was still kinda scary.
and after this auspicious joyride, I was ushered into a room that had a "SINGAPORE REPERTORY THEATRE: YOUNG CO. AUDITIONS, ENTER HERE" sign on the door.
the panel comprised a lady with a blonde crop and twinkling blue eyes that matched her sari and poet-playwright-actor Michael Corbridge and a few of the existing members in the current Young Co., and though it was a little unnerving, auditioning in front of so many people, they were all perfectly lovely and very very nice.
so I did my first monologue from Walter Wyke's "Borrowed Parts" and they laughed at parts like "it's like guys all have parts, y'know, and if all the parts came together in one guy, it would be enough- but as it is, they got mixed up, got scrambled up somehow", which was encouraging.
then i did my second monologue, which was a self-written piece that had grabbed me by the collar and demanded "pick me!" a few days ago, when I had flipped open my diary. I'll admit it ran more like a poem than a monologue, really, but oh well, whatever goes, right?
thennnn it came to the singing section. so I sang On My Own from Les Miz (apparently most of the people there're musical buffs, too, hurrah, give me Broadway over Gossip Girl/Laguna Beach/The Hills anytime).
and it was scary but it was nice, too, in the way that performing gives you this russssshhh and I swear it's a kind of magic when everyone just falls silent and is perfectly still, just watching you; and if I had been wearing a clockwork watch, I bet the minute and the second hands would probably have dragged to a halt- because when you're performing in front of an audience, wishy washy concepts like Time and Self are stripped away and it isn't even you out there singing any more, it's someone else.
Michael Corbridge: "Do you take singing lessons?"
Me: "No...but I go over to my grandparents' a lot, and we sing Broadway songs together."
(everybody laughs)
Lady With The Twinkling Blue Eyes: "...So you guys jam together?"
Me: "yeah...they're really groovy."
the results'll reach me sometime this coming week, soooo.
fingers crossed, toes crossed.
and since I have been thrust into the Broadway mood, my iPod has been playing Miss Saigon and Evita and Les Miserables on repeat >> repeat >> repeat
not sick of them yet
because I'm a Broadway kinda girl.