Since I was a little kid, I have loved musical theater, and it's always been my secret dream to be on Broadway. I love the music, I love the energy, and most of all, I love the dancing. To this day, watching good dancing gives me the chills and makes me want to chuck it all and move to NYC. One of the earliest disappointments of my young life was when Annie closed before I got old enough to audition.
Of course, what I didn't know then was that when the powers that be were handing out physical grace and stage presence, I was apparently in the cafeteria looking for cheetos. This is painfully clear to me now as I watch home moves of me at seven years old, performing at Paramus Park Mall with the singing/dancing group my sister and I belonged to. There K is, natural as can be, and there I am, her robot twin (I console myself with the opinion that at least I had the better voice).
And then there's the stage fright thing. I am a decent singer, but nobody who's ever heard me sing alone would think so. When I sing alone in public, my voice simply disappears, and a chorus of frogs takes its place. (you should have seen my audition for my community's concert choir. I trembled, I shook, I wished I'd go into labor 4 months early; anything to stop the squawks coming from my throat. When they let me in (they're very kind), I had to ask the director twice if he was serious).
Anyway, I thought my Broadway dreams had faded, until tonight when I saw Grease: You're The One That I Want. There could not be a more perfect idea for a TV show. I love Grease with a passion, and for the first ten minutes of the show, I sat there thinking "damn, why didn't I go to an audition?"
Then I remembered the aforementioned lack of grace and abundance of stage fright. And the fact that I am in no way physically suited to the role of Sandy (now, if Disney ever decides to do a stage version of Fantasia, I might have a chance. Unless they let that Taymor lady make the pink hippo dance into a puppet number). Then there's the fact that the show opens this summer, so even if I managed to have a talent transplant, massive liposuction and could turn back time and somehow win the part, all I'd really get is the chance to give birth live onstage.
Wait, where was I? (sorry for all of the tangents, I have a cold (or possibly the plague), and am as heavily medicated as one can be in their first trimester. (read: I had some tylenol. Whee!)).
Oh, yeah. The show and how I love it. I love the premise so much that I have completely overlooked its obvious ripping-off of American Idol. So much that I actually watched tonight's episode, even though it's one of the boring "cattle call" ones that I always skipped when I used to watch AI. I mean, what's not to love? There's the dancing, and the music from Grease and (I think this is the best part) they send the hopefuls to camp! When I saw that, I very nearly hopped a bus to L.A., since another one of my lifelong dreams has been to go to camp. I cannot wait to see the rest of the show.
Of course, I need a new addiction like I need a hole in the head. I'm supposed to be studying for the bar exam that's in less than two months. I'm supposed to be dropping timesucks, not picking up new ones. But this show is just too good to pass up. I'm going to have to give up my (already minimal) housekeeping duties until February. Sanitation is overrated, anyway.