Picking up from last time –
We were talking about how we couldn’t agree on anything. We couldn’t even agree on a concept. It was changing every few days so we didn’t even know what we were writing to. It was just a mess.
I’m not tearing him down. I’m just saying that we didn’t go together. It was like trying to fit a square peg into a star in outer space – like, forget finding a round hole of at least the same material in the same room.
Train an astronaut, get the funding to put a rocket into space, get the engineers to do the leg work. Get that square peg inside a star – that’s how well we went together.
As I said before, it was literally like sound was being sucked out of the room. It was a nightmare.
But even if I wasn’t gonna be a good writer… Perhaps I could still be the performer of the class. Someone from year two came to perform for us on the first day. Maybe I could at least be her.
At this point, we’d seen everyone perform, and I felt like I held my own. I could be in the performers crowd of this workshop. In fact, even my partner – who doesn’t even like me – was like, “Well, the one thing we have is that you are a fantastic performer and you will sell our song.”
The person who probably never wants to spend another moment of his life with me said I was a great performer! So, I believe it!
And it actually looked like my dream of singing a bunch would’ve maybe come true…
I later (much later – way too late) saw that one of the stars of the class had written me, asking if I’d sing as Blanche in his Streetcar Named Desire song the following week (the week I missed).
I was already planning on being out the Monday after that terrible class in a silence chamber.
I was still in the midst of coming from LA. That was my last weekend to grab the last of my stuff. I also happened to have that Monday off from work.
(And side note: I’d been waiting for many months to be scheduled for a hearing at the Department of Labor (for a show that never paid the crew for our last 3 weeks of work).
My hearing happened to get scheduled for that Monday – a Monday in which I’d already be in Los Angeles, and one I already had off work.
So, it was going to be the easiest it was ever going to be. With thousands of dollars on the line, (and 5 available no-consequence absences from BMI) I wanted to go just in case things worked out… (I never did see that money, in case you’re wondering. Ah, life.))
Aaaaanyway, I felt it made sense to miss BMI that week. So, I didn’t go. Of course hindsight is 20/20. But we’ll talk about that next time.