Wednesday, August 19, 2009

HHYT, Week 2, Day 3

You know how everyone has a crazy fantasy that's realistic, but you know will never happen? Well, mine is always that the lead will fall off the stage or get sick or just be a total jerk and get fired (it varies based on the company and the actor) and due to my freaky memorizing ability, I'd be able to replace them.(she does have this really freaky memorizing ability...she can memorize a song after only hearing it once or twice...) Now, I never thought anything even remotely similar would happen, but when my friend Alli hurt her back... well, guess who's now playing Monsieur D'Arque? I'll give you 3 hints.
1) This person looks a lot like me.
2) This person has the same roles as me.
3) My time off stage just got majorly reduced seeing as Alli was also the statue and the baker. (ummm....is it.....your sister? :P)
No, it's not Luke... not a PA... I'll give you one last guess. Do you give up? Fine, I'll tell you. It's me! Yes, me, JJ, the one writing this blog. Surprised? Yeah, I was, too.(WHY DON"T YOU TELL ME THESE THINGS????? Oh and congrats!!!) So now I have about as much stage time as Belle or Gaston, I have more lines and a lyric in Mob Song, and I have a featured bow thing. (Yay!!!) I run out with Maurice and the Enchantress and we point towards the Enchantress, then they point to me, then we point to Maurice (it's a stage-point, more of a gesture).


Today we did our first run through in costume. Because I'm like 5 different people, I have about 100 changes. Okay, not 100, but a lot. I start out as Narrator 1, then have just the 8 bar introduction to Belle to change into the baker, then I change back into Narrator 1, then I change into the statue, then I run and change into a villager with sneakers (so I can do my round-off backwalkover), change into utensil, then become Narrator 1 again, then I become Monsieur D'Arque, become narrator 1 again, and then I'm D'Arque until the curtains close.


Today was my day of stupid mistakes. I woke up and went to get my leotard from my drawer and slammed my hand in my drawer when closing it. Then I was walking down stairs, stepped on Nicki's shoebox, and felt it colapse under me. I slid down the stairs, flew into my mom's thumb (yes, poked myself in the eye with someone else's finger), and artfully flipped down onto the ground. It hurt a little, but I laughed it off and felt better in an hour (if Basil hasn't mentioned it already, I'm her "pain tolerant friend" due to my uncanny ability to feel minimal pain)(<-----it's kind of creepy how you can punch her and she feels absolutely nothing). During our rehearsal of Gaston, I backed up and almost knocked down a table which was behind me that I hadn't noticed. And finally, during my round-off backwalkover, I noticed I was about to knock over another table and kick it onto a group of kids, so I forced myself to stop mid-air and fall down, which was just splendid. I figured that was the end. I mean, 4 strikes, I was already technically out. But I figured maybe the two seperate tables would count as one strike. Of course, I was wrong. Because, as you already know, I have many costumes. But I unfortunately changed into the wrong one right after Be Our Guest. The dressing rooms were flooded, so we were changing up in the main lobby, which helped us create a marvelous stage picture. Imagine this: Narrator 1, running down the aisle shouting "Belle ran into the forest as fast as she could" in half of her Monsieur D'Arque costume. The other narrators freaking out because Narrator 1 isn't with them, so the half dressed D'Arque/Narrator cross-breed stands on stage and recites Narrator 2's line. Narrator 2 wondering onstage and staring at Narrator 1. The other narrators coming on stage and continuing the scene. Narrator 1 handing Belle an imaginary prop because she came from the aisle, not the wings, and couldn't grab the prop. Blackout. Yep, it was magical. You're looking at the world's stupidest narrator here. But don't worry, "this is why we have rehearsal." So you can make a fool of yourself BEFORE the people come.

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