Friday, October 17, 2008

Too Tight, Out-of-Date Bravery

I wanted to find and shake out the bravery I used to wear like a favorite pair of jeans. I remember it being perfectly worn in, with a few strategically placed patches on the knees. It was comfortable, stylish, and it made me feel ultra cool. I found it, my bravery, accepted the fact that it smelled like the antique cedar chest from whence it came, put it on, and...oh shit.

It doesn't fit. The cut is all wrong for today! No one wears this kind of thing anymore! The stitching is so clearly from the eighties, and the price tag is still on the damn thing. It says $19.99, which is the cost of bravery that was sold in 1992 - the year I graduated from college! Every single person is going to know that this is yesterday's bravery. I may as well be wearing moon boots.

Sigh. Tremble. Maybe if I do some funky stretches and suck it in here and never let them see this part that I can't quite get to snap? I'll wear an extra long sweater to try to cover up what I can. I'll spray a little something on it to mask the odor. I won't get eye contact. I'll...Fergodsake...Justfuckingdoit.

I went to the audition. I got in.

I'm in a musical. The seats go for twenty bucks a pop. There are eight big performances. We've been sinking our souls into it for a month and a half. It opens on November first. I'm scared.

On the way to the first rehearsal, I burned through the extra layer of deodorant I had put on prophylactically. I was a nervous wreck. When I arrived and met the other cast members, I was pathological about my self-defeating humor, lest anyone should think I felt I deserved to be there.

Slowly, I began to get more comfortable with the rehearsals. I laughed with the other cast members. I could see their human sides. I did my best each night, all the while trying to allow myself a little bit of leeway. "Is that a supportive whisper I'm hearing in my brain? Coming from myself? Who the hell is that?"

I did what I do and scared that nice voice away. I ran it the hell out of there, and now I'm scared again. I'm scared. I don't want to do it. I hate bravery and the way it's deceiving me. It's so obvious it doesn't even fit. And it fucking stinks like mothballs too.


anymommy said...

I adore the songs in this musical! You can do it, you've come this far, I don't know because I've never been in a play, but maybe after opening night is over it will be fun?

I loved the jeans analogy.

Jen W said...

Sometimes I miss my moon boots- and my bravery, too. Good for you! I know you'll do great!

Vodka Mom said...

in just a few minutes, that bravery will fit you like a glove.

Vodka Mom said...

that was a beautiful post.

DCD said...

You can do it!! Go to TJ Maxx, spend another $19.99 and get yourself some new jeans, baby!

Granted all my theater was done in high school - but I was still petrified...until it was showtime. Then it's just all fun!! Plus, in HS they kind of have to put everyone in. You auditioned and got in - huge difference. They want you there for a reason! Forget the rest and have a wonderful time!!

Laggin said...

Hey, if you could hook the button on that bravery, then it fits. It'll stretch out and quit suffocating you soon promise. Bravery, is magic.

Break a leg and all that jazz. I love this show. And I miss theatre so much. I admire that you're going for it.

Prefers Her Fantasy Life said...

That bravery thing is never dependable. It comes and goes. I'm working on making it stay.

Nice post.

justlori2day said...

I will be watching for your review of the first performance with baited breath! I know you will do well!

Get a rubber band, wrap it through the loop, and swing it around the button, and voila - bravery fits again!

Break a leg (in the jeans analogy non literal sense), and ROCK IT BABY!!!

Vodka Mom said...

hey girl! Just checking on you!

Braja said...

Now that's what I call a post. You shake that bitch bravery by the throat and tell her to stop being so godforsaken fickle with her affections. Dominate her. And in the end, tell her you don't need her as some costume jewelery type adornment, that what you have inside is damned fine without some fleeting little shit that calls itself "BRAVE." Screw her, man...