I’m not sure which was worse–

The FOUR cellphones that rang during a performance of Equus last night, one of which rang for so long that it caused Richard Griffiths to just stop speaking and take the longest beat imaginable

OR

The one cellphone that rang during the most poignant part of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button this evening which didn’t ring for quite as long because the woman ANSWERED IT AND STARTED TALKING.

You tell me.

In other news, I picked three new headshots.

This is my Go-To musical theatre headshot unless I am doing a musical where everyone dies. Then perhaps I will choose a less chipper picture:

This is the “Quirky with glasses and oh so cute you’d put her in a Tampax commercial!” Laura:

And here I am looking kind of sultry which is hilarious because WHEN DO I EVER GET CAST IN ANYTHING SULTRY?

For the record, I have never been cast in anything sultry. In fact, I believe my roommate and I were the only people in our sophomore class in college NOT to be cast in Andrew Lippa’s “The Wild Party” because we were too “pure looking”. We were devastated, of course, because OMG IT WAS COLLEGE and it was THE SEMESTER MUSICAL and you know, IT MEANT SO DAMN MUCH.

It ended up being the best thing for us because

1) there is a simulated sex scene at the end of the second act and my mother would have FLIPPED OUT IF SHE HAD SEEN IT OMGGGGG

and

b) The production kind of sucked.

Also, the roommate and I spent the semester getting straight A’s and eating french fries while the rest of the department was on a diet, desperately trying to get in shape for the aforementioned simulated sex scene.

See? All the things you wish you knew about college theater departments, RIGHT HERE ON THIS WEBSITE.

It’s so funny to me to look back and laugh at things that used to matter so incredibly much. I suppose that is a Life In General Thing and not just a College Thing. BUT OH! It was the MUSICALLLLL and everyone was in it but MEEEEEEEEE.

You’ll note this is a trend.

In 6th grade, I was the only one of my friends not cast in a community theater production of “Fiddler on the Roof” and I cried into my pillow for DAYS while my mother pet my hair and tried her best to comfort me. “But sweetie, you just don’t look Jewish enough…”

I’m also trying to imagine my mother saying this while trying not to laugh, which I assume is how she said it.

And my 12 year old self did not UNDERSTAND THAT. Everyone but ME. I am left BEHIND. Everyone is wanted and I AM NOT. Forget all the times that I was chosen, picked, cast. None of it mattered because EVERYONE WAS SINGING “TRADITION” AND I WAS NOT ALLOWED BECAUSE I LOOKED TOO WASPY.

I’m going to try in this new year to actually believe what my 12 year old self refused to–that 80% of this acting game has nothing to do with me. It has to do with who the director knows and what color hair the girl needs to be and whether or not I can sing a high C. All I can do is work with what I’ve been given, my vocal range, my height, my preparation.

The rest is out of my hands and I think that automatically relieves quite a bit of stress.

I just need to keep training, keep showing up, keep putting in the effort.

And also, KEEP LOOKING SULTRY.

Done and done.