NOTE TO READERS: I will not delete this entry. I feel that it is actually very... relevant to the way actors perceive rejection. I did edit the bad words. Though, as I say in the next post, they were mostly in jest. More to make me feel a little better. I love this cast and this play and it's really really fun. Anyway, read on, but know that this is only like 5% of the real me. Be glad I'm not being Mr. Fake on the internet! And enjoy... an actor's lament!
Thank God nobody I know f'reakin' reads this blog. Thank God nobody reads this blog. I would get into huge trouble for this post if anyone did.
What the hell. I just had to put that out there. Ladies and Gentlemen, what - the - hell. Yes. I was wrong. Today was a horrible day with one semi-okay hour.
Sorry. I have to say it one more time. WHAT THE HELL. I've paid my dues, okay? I mean, come on! I paid my freaking dues!! For those of you who care... which means no one because no one reads this crap, NO, I did not get McMurphy. I'm in my anger stage right now. Allow me to explain to you the stages of mourning over a lost part.
1.) Cosmic Realization- "Oh... golly gee, I-I guess I didn't get it. Wow... I-I-... wow."
2.) Burdensome Sadness- Extreme grief. Pressure-filled grief. Hollowing Grief.
3.) Longing For Pathos- The need for someone to feel sorry for you.
4.) Sadness From Lack Of Pathos- "No one even cares. Everyone sucks. I hate my life. I suck."
5.) Anger- "Well, So-and-so is going to suck. Just watch. I'll bet Mr. C is going to completely regret it."
6.) Extreme Anger- "WHAT THE HELL!!"
7.) Extreme-er Anger- "Screw 'em. I've paid my freaking dues. And what do I get?"
8.) Thought Of Leaving- "Whatever. I'll just drop and then that maggot of an a-hole Mr. C will realize how badly he got it wrong.
There you go. There's really no getting over it. You'll always look back on the finished product and think, "I could have done that better.
Here is why I thought I would get it: I have proven myself loyal. I have never quit a BUHS play. Never. I have never complained about getting a part I don't want... aloud... to Mr. C. I have always done way more than my share in every play. I know and respect tech theater. I'm smart. I'm in the top percent of my class. I study these plays. I create a character. I make everything original. I try. I try so freaking hard. I've never had backstage drama. I've never miss rehearsals for the heck of it. I care. And I think I'm good.
I also know that Mr. C knows me. He knows that I get very upset about casting through the grapevine. He knows. Yet he still screws me so. I like to tell myself it's because he wants me to succeed in theatre and is therefore letting me experience rejection so I'm not a stranger to it. I also like to tell myself I will find true love one day. Haha!
Okay, aside from personal qualities and past records, I thought I would get it since I read for that part four out of five times at callbacks. Also, the person that did get that part didn't even show up for the callbacks. And during his initial audition, he screwed up his monologue and almost broke a window while pounding on it out of anger. And, it doesn't help that when we were in seventh grade, he randomly said out loud in class, "Dylan likes to get butt-f*cked!" You guys, I had no idea what that even meant. But when thirty kids are laughing at you and you have no real friends, somehow you know it's not good.
I really want to quit. I'd rather screw this play and work really hard on Mock Trial. I'm honestly standing on the precipice here. I need to decide by the end of this week. Rehearsals start Monday.
This was my last chance. We aren't doing a musical at all, Palmer is closed down, the most we'll do next semester is a goddamn Melodrama and I'm going to decide by Friday if I should just screw it all. My last chance is gone.
Here's the cast. I was wrong about everything save Billy.
McMurphy- Tyler Whatshisname
Ratched- Haley Saracusa
Billy- Anthony
Candy- Katie Someone
Sandra- Ashlyn
Harding- Me
I'm depressed. And I will be for quite some time. I was so excited for this. I was going to work really hard. Now... screw working out with Alex. Screw that. Screw this play. Screw life. If you think I'm being a baby, screw you too. I'm mad. And when I went to the Donut Shop for a cheer-me-up Dr. Pepper... The cup broke when I was driving. Soda all over my passenger seat.
I hate life. Life hates me.
-Big D
