Saturday

I have not run that fast in platform pumps in a long time. I make it a point not to run. And when one is wearing heels, one expects door to door service and limos and butlers and things like that.

So, I get up at seven. I drink copious amounts of coffee, I shower, I begin to shellac my face with all manner of expensive potions until I am starting to look like a human woman. I eat some cereal, I curl my hair. I go downstairs so as not to disturb my neighbors (even though they are constantly disturbing me, but I am nicer)to warm up. I then drink a glass of water with lemon because I am hella phlegmy, and by this time it is time to pour myself into some control-top hose and put on my dress.

By ten-fifteen I was looking good, feeling good, shellacked within an inch of my life, and I got my binder and left for my audition.

Well, wouldn't you know it, my brand new car chose that moment not to start. Like not even a whiff of a start. Like the battery was dead and the thing wouldn't turn over. I panicked. I called Joe, I called Bo, I called the artistic director's office, but of course he wasn't there because he was listening to other people's auditions. And then, the brilliant idea of a cab came to mind. I could take a cab!

So that is why I had to run, because when you have been preparing for an audition, you want to go to it, and you don't want the people to think you just blew them off, when you clearly are nearly killing yourself to get there. I had to run two blocks in those god damn heels to get to a street where the cabs were more plentiful. When I got in the cab, I practically kissed the driver, and wanted to cut my feet off because they were killing me after having only worn the shoes for a total of like fifteen minutes that day. Can anyone please back me up about how annoying it is that cab drivers in Baltimore never know where any destination is. They don't even know where St. Paul intersects, well...any number of roads. You have to explain to them exactly where everything is, which I was much too stressed to do, and we missed it by like an entire ten blocks or something. So when I finally arrived, the girl just before me was singing, and it was time for me to go in. I didn't know what was going to come out of my mouth. I out of breath and a little bit worried.

But it was GOOD. What came out was GOOOOOODDD. I can't believe it.

After I sang and DIDN'T suck, I bashfully admitted to the AD of the company that I had left a pretty wacko message on his phone about twenty minutes ago when I was practically hitch-hiking to the audition.

"Just ignore it," I giggled.

When what I actually meant was, hey bitches! I just rocked the house after running two blocks in heels wearing a jewel tone dress and enough make-up on to make a tranny blush!

Just another weird ass day in the life of an opera singer.

And, I did find a legging supplier closer to home. It's a very good day.