Domino yelled at me for a while, then jumped up on the bed and head-butted my arm for a while. I turned on the TV and watched pre-football and a little bit of football, I had nowhere to be till 3 pm. Played on the computer, explored some sites which I used to visit regularly, and saw why I stopped.
Opened the piano, played some of the tunes I was thinking of auditioning with. Old Man River has been getting old. But How To Handle a Woman started too high and got higher, I can't sing the top 3 notes anymore; My Way is fine until the climax, which is too high in the music I have (Elvis and Sinatra both used this arrangement); What Kind Of Fool Am I gets too high too quickly, and I don't really know the words to Fine, Fine Line or This Nearly Was Mine.
Watched some of the Raiders game, grabbed the book with Old Man River and my theater resume, and headed for the Lyric Theatre warehouse aka rehearsal hall near SJO. It's a really convenient location for me, a straight shot down Central from both the new apartment and work. My appointment was for 3, I was there at 2:30. They took my picture and printed onto the application form which already had all my particulars (I had entered them online when I made the reservation), checked a couple of boxes, answered some questions (my only conflict with rehearsals is Conflikt), signed on the line, and hnded it back to the itinerant registration worker. She stapled it to my resume and handed it back to me with a page of "sides" - and said I could choose any of them as my cold reading, went into the Green Room and waited for 15 minutes for my time to arrive.
This gave me a lot of time to get nervous. Two lovely women came in for their appointments right after mine, which helped.
Called downstairs to the vast empty warehouse from the green room above, the dais was populated with familiar faces, except one. I think she's the assistant choreographer. The producers, stage director/choreographer, music director and accompanist are all people I have worked with before.
Found the black X on the floor about a mile from the dais, gave the accompanist my music and showed him where to stop playing, back the X and sang my number. I think it went very well, I was a little tentative on one of the ending notes but diaphragm support saved me. Then I read a paragraph from the sheet, which was supposed to be a speech by the mayor to the whole town. I used my stage public address voice. The director asked me to make it bigger. Imagine 10,000 people. This didn't work the way the side was written, so I asked and he agreed that the HUGE VOICE came after a line which was an aside to the person next to me. Anyhow, I don't know where it came from, but it sounded a lot like Charlton Heston in The 10 Commandments.
On my way out I let the director know about my torn meniscus, so he would understand just how non-dancer I'll be for the show. He thinks I may be healed by then, but I doubt it. It would not prevent me from being cast in any of the Old Fart roles.
I was pleased with the audition, and don't care if I'm called back or make the show. It would be nice to work with these people.
I was out of there by 3:10, and my coffee date was not till 5, so I drove to Walmart in search of shelves or plkastic drawer sets or something to replace the linen cabinet missing from the new apartment. Autopilot took me to Costco, but I turned right around and got going in the right direction, an saw that The Milk Pail was on the way, so I stopped in there for some French goat an sheep brie-like cheeses, was reminded they don't sell sourdough baguettes, but as I was heading for the cash register there was a basket of nice ripe large limes. 16 for a dollar! Usually they are 50 cents each. I bought 8. My cashier was a gorgeous Scandinavian woman, about 25, who was very cheerful and bantered well. She was not banded.
Then Walmart, but that was a FAIL, they already have converted the garden section into a Christmas store, and the aisles are piled 7' high with boxes plastic wrapped together which either need to be hauled to storage or shelved. Hard to tell which. I didn't see anything which would work for shelf space.
To Starbucks, there was nowhere to sit inside, but it was 80° outside and no one was smoking, so I grabbed a table there. It was 4:30, Janice showed up a little before 5, which was a surprise. She told me a lot about her adventures in China where she had spent the last 3 weeks on a tour. There were three nurses on the tour, and she needed all of them. Petite mal seizure climbing the steps to a temple in Tibet. Tripped on the step leaving a squat toilet and mashed up her arm. And something else I forgot. But she did get to Tibet (which was iffy when she left) and she also saw the panda preserve.
It got cold and breezy about the time she had to leave, so I headed off to the Target store, found something which will work for storage, a welcome mat, mint Klondike bars, and breathsavers, but did not find a non-glass butter dish. I'd left mine in the fridge at the old apartment.
After I put stuff in the trunk, the phone rang and it was a contract recruiter congratulating me on my new job in San Mateo. Huh? After I told her I',m not that guy and am happy in my work she wanted to keep chatting. Data mining. I don't know how she ignored the noise in the parking lot, but she kept chatting for 20 minutes. I finally decided the Klondike bars had melted enough and told her goodbye.
Home, unloaded the car, had to spray Domino a few times to get her out from being hit by the fridge door. Was disappointed that there was no Sunday Night Football. Decided dinner would be pasta shells with beef frank slices in a sea of creamy goat cheese, but in the end the cheese turned all crumbly. Tasted great, but the texture was all wrong.
Checked my DNA test progress at NatGeo, they received the samples and have begun testing. 4 weeks and I may have an answer.
Plans for tomorrow:
BASFA if football becomes a boring pitchers' duel