I had been waiting for six days, which were becoming more and more excrutiating as the days went on, to find out whether or not I had been chosen as a director. On the Monday, I had submitted my proposal, outlining why I would be a good director and what my vision was for the play, as well as the play itself.
At the beginning of the semester, I was involved as an actor in the New Plays festival (you can read about it here). Next semester, the school is running a Theatre Activ festival, as per usual. In late August and early September, I was thinking of directing a play myself for the Theatre Activ festival. The difference between the two festivals is that New Plays consists only of student written plays, whilst Theatre Activ is composed only of produced and "professional" plays. There was this play that I had helped to direct in high school, Claws, which I thought would be an excellent play for Theatre Activ.
Let's rewind back to last Sunday evening. I had been getting antsy about whether or not any of the directors had heard if they had gotten in. At intermission time, during the choir show, I inquired to one girl from the drama department if directors had been chosen yet. She said she wasn't sure and asked another guy who had also submitted a proposal. He said he had received an e-mail from the co-ordinators, telling him that they had chosen him as one of the directors.
"Oh", I said, trying to hide my disappointment. I had checked my e-mail merely a few hours ago, and I had received no such message. I suddenly felt really disappointed. I wouldn't be able to be a director.
Trying not to think about the grim probability, I watched the second half of the choir show. After the show, Andrea was forced to hear, again and again, renditions of:
"Oh no, I'm going to have to throw myself off the bridge. Ooh, I'm going to go and drown my sorrows!" I wail.
"Um, Miranda, I don't think you have any alcohol", stated Andrea, also knowing full well that I rarely drink.
"Actually, I do!" I exclame. "I think there is still some gin left from Halloween."
I thought about it and changed my mind.
"Actually, no; I'm going to drown my sorrows in Friends", I said firmly, thinking of the pile of Friends' DVDs that my roommate owns.
Andrea asks if she can come too, but I tell her that this is a very sad moment and the Friends watching must be done in solitutde. She laughs at me.
I get home and run directly into my room. Heart pounding, I check all of my e-mail accounts in hope that the e-mail was sent later on.
No e-mails. No such hope.
I was extremely let-down. I knew that it was somewhat of a long shot to be accepted as a director in the first place, as I had a few things going against me:
- I am only in second year.
- Although I have mountains of theatre experience, I have only directed once before.
-They received over fifteen applications (which is more than most years), and they can only choose nine.
- I am not a drama major.
And lastly, I do not know the drama professor, who makes most of the decisions; therefore, I do not have an in.
After moaning to Alex and to my room for a bit, I decided to telephone the co-ordinators just to make doubly sure. After my second try, I got through to the infamous Brent (who, incidentally, is one of the co-ordinators for this festival). The conversation went something like this:
"Hi Brent, it's Miranda", I said in a frenzy, "howayoudoin?"
"Oh, hi Miranda! I'm doing just great," he boomed.
"I was wondering", I said slowing down," if you had chosen the directors yet."
"Yes, as a matter of fact, we did. I sent you an e-mail to your Bishop's account."
"Yeah, to m-g-l-e-n-n zero four," he said spelling it out.
"Oh oh, well that's wrong; it's-it's m-g-l-e-n zero four, only one 'n'," I said almost hyperventilating.
"Oh, I see", he said.
"Um, so, am I picked as a director?" I said making sure he wasn't forgetting the issue at hand.
"Well," he said annoyingly slow,"unfortunately..."
What! Oh n--
"You're in," he said. I could almost hear him smiling.
Omigod! My heart leaped with joy.
"I'm in? I'm in!" I squealed.
He then told me when the first director's meeting was and if I could attend. Of course I could attend and would be very glad to.
After hanging up, I danced around the apartment, shouting yes! yes!. I was elated. I would be directing this superb play next semester.
The auditions were on Tuesday, and I could hardly wait.
... to be continued...