Unfortunately, my hopes are high, and I managed to attach myself to one of the characters.
Never a good idea.
Especially with my emotional tendancies!
But…you know. I think Gabriel (Next To Normal) suits me, and my vocal range. So. Fingers crossed, huh? :)
Wish me luck.
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Hi guys!
Good to see you all!
Today I purchased a chest binder. Of course, it’s not really a chest binder, it’s a back brace. (I got the idea from binders101.tumblr.com, which I highly recommend for people with binder problems, questions, or people who are looking for the right kind of binder to suit them.)
Someone asked a cheap way to get a binder, and aside from the normal answers - ace bandage etc - they said ‘try a back brace’. (Don’t quote me. Words to that effect only).
And so, I mosey’d on over to Shoppers Drug Mart and got myself one!
This is me without it, front and side view:
And this is me with it on, front and side view:
So yeah.
Really freaking happy about that, right there.
Of Personal Differences
OIlie Parkins
Never once in my life had I considered myself to be feminine. Nor had I ever thought of myself as, what one may choose to call, a tomboy. I’ve always preferred referring to myself as ‘eclectic’ and take pride in overusing the word when I talk about who I am, simply because it fits me.
Being different was normal for me. It wasn’t particularly difficult and I was used to being ‘the weird kid’. I didn’t have any problems with it and, frankly, I didn’t think of myself as different. I prided myself in being unique.
It wasn’t until I really figured out why I was different that things started to become more complicated. And rightly so. My case isn’t the most simplistic, after all.
As I got older, I figured out that, by worming my way into another character’s head, I was able to escape the little voice in the back of my mind that constantly told me I wasn’t like other people. I did this in two ways, the most prominent being the theatre.
When acting, I boldly took on roles of all ages, types and genders; my most diverse being the old aged Tevye, in Fiddler on the Roof, written by Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick.
I found that I preferred playing male characters, because of how laid back and interesting they were compared to the females. And, as strange as it may sound, I felt more like myself when I was playing them.
Every opportunity to be in a show I was given, I took, knowing that it was just another chance to be someone else for a while.
So, when the audition sheets for the school musical Hairspray appeared, I didn’t hesitate to sign up.
So there I was, in my audition, my heart thumping as it has never thumped before. I was singing Good Morning Baltimore. It went well, in my opinion. I succeeded in making the production team laugh, and my voice didn’t crack at any ridiculous points in the song – so job well done.
Upon asking the director how my audition was, he replied ‘it was very good.’
But I suppose, sometimes, ‘very good’ isn’t enough.
I was put in the Nicest Kids in Town girl’s chorus, and after the initial shock sunk in, I was alright with that. I spent a while developing my character, Joey; my concept being that she was the androgynous one of the group. The one who could rightly be described as ‘a bro’. But soon, the problem of numbers became evident. There was one too many girls, and so, being the valiant individual I am, I raised my hand and politely asked the director:
“Would you like me to switch over to the boys chorus?”
To this he replied:
“No, thank you. You’re not a boy.”
At that moment, in the middle of the rehearsal, I felt my blood run cold. My stomach twisted into some elaborate shape, and my heart began to slow. I felt my safe place slowly being destroyed, ripping at the seams, tearing me in two.
As I left rehearsal that evening, everything suddenly looked black and white. The colours of the autumn trees were no longer as bright and vibrant as they had seemed before.
Now that my safe place was gone, all I could think was that boys are boys and girls are girls. Everything was black and white.
But without shades of grey, black and white couldn’t be a reality either.
With this thought at hand, I slowly started rebuilding myself, making myself stronger and happier with every step forward.
Realizing I was a shade of grey, kept me walking on. It kept me thinking that I really did have a chance to be me and that, that chance would always remain a reality.
I’ll never stop going.
I’m going to put one foot in front of the other, and just keep walking on.
I’m tempted to email them back to find out why…but…I really don’t want to deal with anything right now.
I’m feeling pretty low.
It went pretty well, I think! The guys in my callback looked a little confused when I showed up and did the callback with them, but I really don’t blame them. I’m not going to get confrontational about it when they probably have no idea what’s going on.
Also, because I am a modest son of a nutcracker, I think I blew them out of the water singing wise. Because…hey. I can hit the high notes better than them.
Fingers crossed, eh?
We should find out this Saturday/Sunday at the latest.
And Oliver Parkins has a callback tomorrow from 11am to 2pm.
Fuck yes.
Uuuugh. I’m shaking. And crying. And just…sohifgsihfalkhfgowrhfpiajsdpowehg09we.
I’d also like to point out that the callbacks are split into boys and girls, and I was under the boys callbacks.
Yes. Yes yes yes.
and I’m rather excited and interested to see how it will pan out!
Wish me luck!
<3
