a muted click, and a closing of the eyes

I watched my audition tape last night. It consists of two run-throughs of the Alleluia with a few of my comments and attempts to fix things. Frankly, even aside from the fact that all I can think when I watch the video is "I look fat", it's a shitty tape, and a really horrible example of what I can do. Or maybe that's exactly what I can do and I'm totally kidding myself. My expressions are dead-pan, I couldn't look less interested in the piece or less connected to the choir. From this side of things it looks like I cue nothing, I interpret nothing, I emote nothing. And it's the strangest thing because what's going on in my head is this cacophony of analysis and quick request and expression, but why the fuck it's not showing up on my face is beyond me. It honestly looks like I'd rather be anywhere else. I look bored. I'm really embarrassed to send this in and totally discouraged. I really hope these recommendations are encouraging enough that I'm invited for a live audition, because this audition tape isn't gonna help me much.

I've got my apps together at this point; I'm waiting on recommendations from John McDonald and Bryce (advisor, and the church conductor who hired me, respectively), and then I can get these things in the mail, at which point it's just a matter of plugging my ears and wincing. I wish I had more hope about this.

I made myself an egg and cheese bagel this morning and watched Sesame Street where Sugarland joined Elmo and sang about the joy of singing. Duh. Then the Count counted Russian sheep (you knew they were Russian because they had on those barrel-shaped ushanka hats that the Russian kicking dancers in The Nutcracker wear). I'd like to see the Nutcracker actually. I've been thinking of taking myself some Saturday night because I remember going to see it with Dad and Michelle and her daughter Eva and loving how Christmassy and celebratory I felt. Like I was really taking advantage of the season. I feel like I'm going to miss that this year, what with spending so much of the pre-season solo in Medford, and no skiing. At least there will be caroling, right? I mean, Peter won't go but Dad and Kate and I will I'm sure. Damn I wish I could ski this year. I've even fantasized about doing it just a little bit, just some light cruisers on Payday, but I know I couldn't stop there, or at least wouldn't be able to keep my speed down and the next thing I know I'd be an ego-driven comet downhill and all it takes is one little wrong edge and it's an utter yard sale. Ugh. Poor knee.

Bryce just dropped off his recommendations. And gave me a copy. Wow. I've got a little bit of hope now. Here's to clinging to that.