auditiooooon. audition.

At an early morning call for a tour of 'Seussical the Meussical'.

I've wanted to play the Cat in the Hat since I saw the marvelous closing night of the original Broadway show years ago.

And with my forkulele by my side, how could we fail?

Seriously. After the "That Guy" audition where I broke out the uke and surprised everybody in the audition room with a little plunka-plunka burnin' love, I've decided that, except in cases where it would be wildly inappropriate, the ukulele comes with me to all musical theatre auditions.

I'm not sure though...

This shirt I'm wearing...I'm ashamed to admit it missed the last trip to the Chinese laundromat and it's got the funk.
This humid holding room isn't helping either.

It's filled to puking with musical theatre girls. All are insecure, all are name-dropping like crazed parrots, and quite a few of them are really overweight (there's one brassy one talking about her "new nose"--and, not to sound like a total jerk or anything, that obviously fake Barbie doll nose really should have been the least of her worries).

And now it looks as though the audition folks are *not* going to do a sign up for union and union candidates. Wow. This. Is. Incredible.

Oh well. At least I got to learn a fun new song.

Silver lining. Silver lining.