Dance: Ten, Looks: Three

You have to love an industry that provides so much variety on a day to day basis. I'm never bored! Just recently, I found myself running between auditions for Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, a Disney Cruise Line for character look alikes, and Cutman, a new Broadway musical (about boxing) to debut later this year. Differences and roguery aside, the day provided some healthy laughter and a much needed wake-up-and-smell-the-roses voice mail from the universe!

Disney Cruise Line was a madhouse as usual, and as they asked for us to maintain the "magic" (aka not tell any details about their audition), I'll go ahead and perpetuate the mystery (with an ever so subtle - but still loving! - eye roll).

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was a non-union call, and it ran like a DREAM. We were in and out of that typing with an alien sort of efficiency - a pleasant change in comparison to some other calls I've been to lately. All the choreographer had us do was stand in a straight line so he could look at us, then he asked who could tap, then he had us do an eight count turning combination (the turned out triple pirouette was nasty at 10am in the morning). Bob Cline looked at me and looked at my name and says, "honey, there are like 10 of you, you have to change your name, and fast."  Point taken, Bob, now hire me! In by 2pm, called back by 2:15pm, and off from Ripley Grier at 34th to Chelsea Studios at 26th just in time to swoop in to Cutman!

I cut it pretty close, dashing in just as they were taking the first non equity group (I had signed up as number 7 during a work-break at 9am that morning). Cutman was a delicious audition with the sort of sexytime choreography that any commercial dancer from LA - who has a teensy harlot living in her heart - can't help but savour. The combination was very contemporary house-style hip hop, with a lot of groove and bounce that was clearly a bit of a shock for the girls who were more accustomed to traditional musical theatre.

The collective yet unspoken hey-now in the room reminded me of a similar but not so fun shock months prior: the Dreamworks Madagascar open call had to have been the most upsetting display of white girl hip hop I had seen in years...

Since that travesty of a lemur dance (My little Celiac Seal, what would I do with out you), I had almost forgotten how wonderful it feels to let technique fly out the window and whip your hair/throw your hips in all directions. Heartfelt thanks to Cutman and all the girls in the room for reminding me of joy of letting go! Too bad I ran up against the omnipresent scourge that is type.... I got to the end of the dance call and the choreographers pleasantly remarked that I was fierce and they were feeling it, but that I needed to gain a little weight. Then I looked around to see who they were keeping to sing, and realized that I was missing weight in two very specific places ... in a location where one can't exactly target weight gain without a little silicone assistance. Oh well!

In a final shout out to keep things in perspective, hooray for progress - political maneuvering accusations aside - it's about time, Mr. President! http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/24/us/24marriage.html?pagewanted=2&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha2