SAA: Ep. #61: Real Life Musical

I once had a dream of being in musical theater. 

Unfortunately, this dream had little chance of success.  For one thing, I can't dance.  One time in college, I was part of this Gershwin show that the directors didn't really want me to be a part of (but, for whatever reason, they wouldn't tell me to go away).  I practiced this dance to "I Got Rhythm" about a gazbillion times before getting it down right.  I still don't got rhythm, but thanks to that show and my hours of practicing in front of the mirror, I can do a jazz square like nobody's business.  Sometimes I can even pair it with believable jazz hands.

Another reason why I wouldn't make it in musical theater is because while I once believed had decent acting skills and I still believe I have a good singing voice, I never did well in auditions.  And that's pretty important to getting roles in musical theater.  ...or so I hear....

And the way I see it, I really wouldn't like being in musical theater.  When I was thirteen, I really wanted to be Belle from "Beauty and the Beast."  I wanted to be her.  The movie had only been out about a year, and I wanted to be Belle.  I wanted to go from poor provincial life to prisoner in an enchanted castle to girlfriend of big hairy guy.  I was realistic enough to know that I could never actually be her, so I wanted the next best thing.  I used to pray, yes pray, that the Lord would make Disney make a theatrical version of "Beauty and the Beast" so that I could get the starring role and finally, finally BE BELLE. 

Well...God answered half that prayer.  Yes, there is a Broadway musical.  No, I've never performed in it.  So if you're a fan of Disney's theatrical version of "Beauty and the Beast," you can thank me--or better yet, thank God for answering half my prayer.

The older I got, though, I realized that performing Belle on the stage wouldn't be as great as I thought.  Acting is a lot of hard work, and I don't think I'd like to portray Belle (or anyone else) night after night after night.  Besides, just pretending to be Belle on stage wouldn't actually make me Belle.  I'd leave the stage and go home to an overpriced apartment, living nothing more than a provincial life...in the heart of New York City...or somewhere like that.  Which...I wouldn't be cut out for at all...

And eventually, I discovered that I don't really want to be Belle anyway.  It would be nice, but see, when I talk to teapots, I don't like it when they talk back.  My life is adventurous enough as it is.  But one problem that I see with my life, and basically, life in general, is that it's not like those awesome musicals.  I truly believe that one of the reasons I haven't gotten married is because I really expect true love to happen in some grandiose musical duet.  I'm thinking of "Beauty and the Beast" where they dance in the ballroom.  I'm thinking of that moment in "Tangled" with the lanterns, when Flynn/Eugene and Rapunzel gaze into one another's eyes.  I'm thinking of "Enchanted" where Prince Edward and Gizelle sing about "True Love's Kiss."

...and now I'm thinking about James Marsden...looking outrageously attractive even in outrageously puffy sleeves...acting cute...and singing...

...where was I?

Oh, yes.  The problem with life is, no one just goes around singing like they do in musicals.  Well, some people do.  In fact, I do.  In fact, I believe that the main reason God gave me a good singing voice is because I sing ALL the time, and if I couldn't carry a tune, it would be even more annoying than it already is.  But the thing is, no one likes to sing with me when I start singing, so I've had to tone it down a little.  It's really a shame, too, because I think my life--that everyone's lives, would make a pretty awesome musical.

I'm not just talking love songs here.  I think people should sing about getting ready in the morning:

"I have to be at work in half an hour.
I don't have time to take a shower!
But my boss is going to be a jerk.
If I arrive too stinky to work!"

...or people should sing about going to the grocery:

"I forgot all my manufacturer's coupons.
I can't remember what I was supposed to get.
Do I need another gallon of milk?
I should have made a shopping list!"

...or people should sing about standing in line at the post office:

"My lunch hour is almost gone.
But I'm stuck in line singing this song.
I'll go crazy if I hear it one more time:
'Is there anything liquid, fragile, perishable, or potentially hazardous inside?!'

Going postal.  I'm going postal.
I've got to mail this package.  I've gotta buy a book of stamps!
Going postal.  I'm going postal!
The lady in line in front of me smells like ham."

...or people should sing while driving (and not just to the radio, like I almost always do):

"I honk my horn at you, you bad driver, there.
You cut me off without using your blinker.
I'm shouting, though you can't hear me, you stinker.
I honk my horn at you, and you don't care!"

...or people should sing while eating at a fine dining establishment:

"My waiter is getting an awesome tip tonight.
My waiter brought me water; he brought it just right.
Just listen to my water's ice cubes jingle.
Oh, I wonder if that waiter's single.
My waiter is really out of siiii-iiight!"


Yeah, I don't know why it's not considered socially acceptable (and even socially awesome) to randomly burst out in song in public.  I'm glad I work with kids, because working with kids gives me lots of opportunities to sing.  I made up a song about roses the other day, and I performed it for a kid I was torturing watching :

"Roses can be lots of colors.
Roses can be pink.
Roses can be blue or red.
And their stems are green!
Roses can be orange.
Roses can be purple.
Roses can be yellow.
Nothing rhymes with purple."

The kid just looked at me and said, "You're weird."

But he was smiling, because music, even weird music, makes people happy.

So I'm going to keep singing in my real life musical, and maybe one day I'll end up with a big hairy boyfriend.  Aww.

Can he look/sing like James Marsden??

Embarrablast From the Past Ep. #13: Disney Disillusionment

This is the 13th Embarablast from the Past.  In order to really freak out any of my readers who might have triskaidekaphobia, I'm going to tell a story of something that happened to me when I was 13 years old.  Well, it didn't happen to me as much as it happened around me...but it's still pretty funny. 

So when I was 13 years old, I went to Disney World for the first time (and the last time...BUM BUM BAAAAAAH...unless I, uh, like go again or something).  This was a big deal.  This was a huge deal.  When I was 13 years old, I was in love with Disney (I still like Disney, but I think we should just be friends).  I wanted to grow up and be Belle.  Like, the real Belle--not a cartoon voice or a character dressed up like Belle.  I actually wanted to be the actual Belle.  And I wanted to find some magical castle with magical clocks and talking candlesticks who sang showtunes at every meal.  I wanted to look THAT spectacular in a yellow/gold ball gown.  I mean, I knew that the whole package deal came with an extremely hairy boyfriend, but that was all right.  In fact, I kind of still prefer the Beast's looks to the prince's looks.  What is WITH that Prince's eyebrows?  I mean...did the magical transformation just forget to change his eyebrows back?  Makes me wanna attack that guy's face with an Epilady.  But I digress...

Yes, I know.  I knew it at the time too, but I didn't care.  I knew that most 13 year old girls were into boys or clothes or celebrities--which aren't exactly real, but they were more real than Disney Princesses. 

Anyway, I was super uber stoked to finally get to go to Disney world.  I think I hyperventilated as I walked through the park gates.  The people who were with me, two girls from Pennsylvania (it's a long story, and not funny, so I won't tell how I ended up with two girls from PA), probably thought I was nuts, but I didn't care.  This was the moment I'd been waiting for all my life...I was at FREAKIN' DISNEY WORLD, BABY!

I dragged the two girls from PA with me to ride on cheesy stuff like "It's a Small World" and "Haunted Mansion."  We rode cool stuff, too.  I honestly don't remember much about that part because, well, it was way back in 1993.  I do remember that I had a pink fanny pack.  It was the shizzle.

I also remember what happened when we all got tired of riding rides.  We went to eat lunch.  That's when I found out, for the first time in my life, that I had a KY accent (you would think that I'd have figured that one out before then since I had lived in KY for 13 years at that point)!  These two girls from PA kind of cornered me over my cheeseburger and said, "Do we sound weird to you?"  I said, "Noooo?"  Then I thought about it for a moment.  "Why?  Do I sound weird to you?"  They both nodded emphatically. 

So I got self-conscious for the next several moments and didn't talk much.  We went window shopping.  I'm not sure if it's still this way now, or not, but in 1993 you could go to these little stores in Cinderella's castle.  And a few feet away from these stores was a stage that opened out in front of the castle.  And of course it was roped off and stuff, but my yankee friends and I were within hearing range of the performers who were about to go out on stage.

The performers were none other than Cinderella and Prince Charming. 

They looked spectacular.  Prince Charming looked...well...charming in his princely uniform.  Cinderella looked beautiful and shining in her signature blue dress.  They were obviously about to go out to perform some kind of song and dance number on that stage.  But Cinderella's head wasn't in the game that day.

My friends and I overheard the conversation that Cinderella and Prince Charming were having.

Cinderella: ...so then my cat just hacked this enormous hairball all over the carpet.  I am going to take him to the vet tomorrow, but I don't know....
Prince Charming: Um...I think we're on.
Cinderella: Oh!  Let's go.

She smiled, daintily took his arm, and let him lead her out onto the stage.

My friends and I all exchanged strange glances.  "Did YA'LL just hear THAT?" I asked, no longer caring about the accent.

They nodded.  I didn't imagine it.  Some things are just too weird to make up.

But I tried to make sense of it all in my head.  Cat?  Cinderella?  Cat...?  OH!  Lucifer!  That's who she meant.  Lucifer had obviously hacked a hairball on the carpet to impede her efforts to go to the ball!  "Lucifee meeeeean!"  OH NO!  What if the hairball he had was because he had eaten Jaq and Gus!  NOOOO!

But wait.  Vet?  Did they have vets back in Cinderella's time?  Probably not.  Could it be...could it be...?

Yes.

Cinderella.  Isn't.  Real.

"Cinderella" was just some aspiring actress who liked to rant about her cat puking on the carpet.  And "Prince Charming" was just some guy who needed a job and who was probably sick to death of hearing about "Cinderella's" cat puking on the carpet. 

All I can say is, I'm glad it wasn't Belle who was talking about her cat puking.  It would have crushed me.  But...pssh!  Belle doesn't have a cat.  She has a horse named Phillipe.  And one day I'm going to have a horse named Phillipe.  And he's going to take my father and his new invention to the fair.  And they're going to get lost and trespass into an enchanted castle, where a Beast will take my father prisoner.  Then I'm going to be brave and take his place.  After several months of bursting into song at seemingly random times, the Beast and I will fall in love.  Once Gaston is out of the picture, the Beast will become a prince and we will live happily ever after--after I give him a haircut and pluck his eyebrows.

...but Cinderella.  She's not real.