I Am I, Don Quixote

My heart is pumping at such a rate that I have no feeling in my limbs. I am shaking, numbly. First, I trembled wondering whether or not this was "the right time." Then I anguished over whether I'd been dismissed out of hand, sight unseen. Now, it's official and everything is committed. I am numbly shaking as acid rises up my esophagus. I can't think about how long it's been.

I must prepare. Over-prepare, but not obsess. It will be over soon and then it won't matter either way. It will be a thing I did. An experience I had. Maybe, it'll have consequences I can't foresee, but mostly I anticipate...nothing significant changing. I am afraid. I am old now. I am calling upon myself at an uncertain time. Please God, give me my old strength.

Now it is here. Today is the day. I feel oddly calm. After sleeping past eight, eating breakfast in peace and a long hot shower I feel as if I've taken a time machine back to before I had kids. I spend over an hour slowly blow drying and styling my hair! I kept thinking any minute someone would interrupt me, but no one did. Once I had done my hair and make-up I stood in front of the mirror holding up different outfits. It was amazing. When I looked ready the nerves set in...

I've been out of the game so freaking long. It was my whole life and it's nice to remember that life. At the same time, things have changed. I've never auditioned with crutches before ever. Not once. I'm unsure and I don't want to come off...amateur. I do a full warm up. Forty-five minutes of stretches, humming, vocal work and articulation. So decadent. I flew out the door as soon as Isaac was home from school.

I cursed the heat and my black dress all the way there. Unlike in the "old days" I found it easily and had no trouble parking. Pulling into the parking lot I had a moment where I consciously waited for this to feel normal...it never did. As I climbed out a pretty brunette walked bouncily by. I smiled warmly. When she smiled back I asked, "How'd it go?" She paused a moment and then said thoughtfully, "Good, I think. I'm still shaking." I locked the car, checked the time and made my way along the path the signs pointed out.

I was completely calm. When I approached the glass door an older gentleman held it open for me. He smiled warmly and I thanked him. Another man seated at a table looked up.
"Hello, do you have an appointment?"
"Yes."
"What time?"
"3:10" (which it was, on the nose)
"Ok...(scanning document) Victoria?"
"No, [My Name]"
"Oh. You're down here at 4:00"
"That's not what the email I got said."
"It's ok it's been running slow. Bad traffic. I just need your head shot."
(I hand it over)
(gesturing towards some chairs)"Have a seat, it won't be long."

He passed my head shot to the man who held the door for me. They have a very brief whispered conversation (I assume about the time slots). There are two other girls in the lobby one is reading quietly the other is looking for something. I hear her ask for call back sides for the character I'm auditioning for. They can't find them she's instructed to email the director. Both girls leave. He turns his attention to me:
"Will you be ready in a minute?"
"I'm ready when you are."
"Ok. I have to ask, can you climb the steps to the stage?"
"Yes, no problem"
(He disappears briefly and then comes back)
"Ok, you're up. You can leave your bag here."
"Great."

Walking into to the theater I shifted from numb to excited. Not regular excited, like I could weep for joy excited. Home. I'm me again. Thank God! There are two young men seated mid-way back. They greet me warmly too. They inform me I can deliver my audition in front of or on the stage. I tell them I'll go up on stage. The walk is long, down the incline on the crutches, but I am propelled by the adrenaline that is now pumping through every extremity. I probably could have leapt the stairs. Honestly, I wish that I had. In the past I dealt with my awkward gait up the stage steps, today awkward gait and crutches. I couldn't have been less graceful with a crutch sticking straight out like a freaking lance. Sigh.

Once I was up on stage I leaned those suckers against a handy podium first thing. I moved a chair as close to center as I could get it. I sat down. My fingertips and toes buzzed. They asked me about college and if I lived locally. I told them I was born here, went to college in Boston, lived in NYC and LA before moving back and starting a family. Later, probably because there wasn't anything else to obsess over I fixated on how I mentioned having a family. In a normal job interview it tells them you're settled here, but at an audition it might give the impression that I wouldn't commit to the show. Which is irritating because they'd be so very, very wrong to assume that.

They told me to go ahead whenever I was ready. I performed my piece, but I have almost no awareness of how it went because I felt like I was going to explode the whole time. Hello, adrenaline! I do remember distinctly that they reacted as if they enjoyed it. There were smiles. When I was done they said "Thank you." All very friendly, but it felt like a no. Off I went back to my real life minutes later.

The goal was never to get the part although that would have been lovely, it was to go. I did it. I went. I can go. I can be some version of who I once was. I remember how now.

"The wild winds of fortune
Will carry me onward,
Oh whithersoever they blow.
Whithersoever they blow,
Onward to glory I go!"

Answering Opportunity's Knock

I've been really trying to "move on with my life." To actively get beyond who I was when I was single, what life was pre-Riley and what I wanted for my life pre-spinal fusion surgery. It's a lot to let go of. I am trying so hard not to get mired down in thoughts like "if you could have known me before." I was gaining a lot of momentum recently, too.

Here I was: all settled into the new house, feeling more human and making plans again. I was making real plans without the word someday in them. Best of all I felt like I had a purpose, even a career path again. There was a real honest to goodness professional writing offer on the table. I was abuzz with excitement.

I budgeted another day of daycare to give myself time to write. After all that would mean writing my two blogs and articles for the magazine. It's hard to write with the constant interruption of a toddler in your lap. On the other hand she is my muse and any more time apart might hurt my budding career (not to mention make me sad).

This progressed and I got more and more excited. It was an important first step in being taken seriously. The contract finally came last week. I read and re-read it until my head was spinning. I felt hesitant to sign my writing over to someone else forever, but what did I know? As an actor my performance was the product, it's totally different than a tangible piece of writing.

Mike said it sounded like I was "selling my soul." I began to panic. What if this person really did have malicious intent to publish works with my writing and collect the royalties themselves? I wouldn't have a leg to stand on. On the other hand maybe this is standard practice and it just sounds scary and awful to me because of inexperience.

I asked around to writers I knew and was advised to "keep as much of my rights as possible." Mike continued to encourage me to pass and wait for a better deal. I emailed the publisher asking if the terms could be altered slightly. I didn't come back to my email until last night.

There were two significant messages one from a writer friend and one from the publisher. I was so hoping the publisher's email would contain some professional reassurance that she'd take care of me and I had nothing to worry about. Instead I got this:
Those are standard terms which I do not negotiate with individual bloggers. I would like to point out that this condition was fully disclosed in my invitation email to you from May. It is very regretful that you did not take time to read it then. It would have saved both of us much time and effort. Oh, well. If that's how she handles things I probably didn't want to work with her any way. Right? I really don't know. It’s not uncommon for business types to have a hard time dealing with us creative types.

After I wrote a brief reply and wished her luck I opened the other email. My writer friend confirmed that the contract was completely standard. Well, now I felt completely overwhelmed by what has just occurred. I've killed my career before it started.

I calm myself and remember this was just the first of my writing opportunities. It'll be okay, won't it? After all he was always paid for his articles before someone else gained rights to his material forever and I was only being offered ad share. Maybe article writing for a different publication or better yet pursuing my book again is the way to go now. I feel like a once glorious ice cream cone melted on the sidewalk. Melted and stepped in.