Fail

Last week (okay, precisely13 days ago actually but really who is counting?) I auditioned for the Conservatory Program at Second City.  As per their website, the CON (as those in the know call it) program is:

“… an exciting journey of study through the Improvisational methods developed at the Second City over the last 50 years. It is a 12 month program that explores Improvisational performance and its use to create content. Conservatory students move through 6 levels of study (once a week, 3 hours per class for 7 weeks). Students will learn to re-improvise and to write on their feet. Upon graduation, Conservatory students will have created an original Second City style revue with original sketches, songs and monologues.”

The Creative Team is basically forming a cast of 12 students, picked from about 50, who work together on a show for a year. The prospect of this is scary – 12 strangers forced to bond and build something from nothing, using only their wits and smarts - but also incredibly rewarding.  I want in.

So, audition I did.  The audition itself wasn’t hard.  Simple exercises I’ve done in class a zillion times.  But of course they don’t go the way they do in your brain.  What does?  I’ve prepared myself for anything (mainly a big NO) and thankfully, being the reigning Queen of the One Date Wonders, I can completely deal with rejection.  I am hard.  I am tough.  And I became this way by developing my own Defense Strategy Manifesto.  Read and Learn, Grasshoppers.

I Cope, Therefore I Am

Get it Out of Your Head

This never works.

Undermine The Shit Out of It

Who the hell wants to get into CON anyway?  It’s so lame.  So much work.  For what? Have you seen some of the people that get in?  They suck!  The new cast is terrible – who’d want to play with them?! 

Make Crap Up

This is a good one.  Like pretending the guy you really dig but doesn’t dig you is gay.  I heard that the CON program is actually a front for Scientology.  No jokes. 

Downplay Your Desire

So, yeah, I just auditioned because I had some time to kill.  No big deal.  (My shoulder hurts so much from shrugging I think I need to go to physio.)

Create a Cult of Lunatics (that you are not part of).

What a bunch of hipsters.  Can you be too cool?  Get jobs people!  Must we be ON all the time?  Is it possible to have a real conversation?!  We do not need to be funny and witty and wry all the damn time!  What is with your hair?!

Suck It Up, Fucko

And when all else fails, we have honesty.  I want this.  But we know that want isn’t enough.  Not in this cold hard world.  You need talent and luck and the stars need to align just so, but mostly you need talent.  Am I good enough?  Some days I think “hell, YES” and other days I think “man, do I SUCK”.  So, we wait and I’ll put on a resilient big smile face when I get the news because that’s just what’s done.  Dealing in general is what sets you apart.  If I know myself, I know I’ll be bummed for a bit (a long bit) and then I’ll pick myself up and try again.  And maybe, just maybe, in a semester or two my want will match my talent.  Here’s hoping.

So, yeah, I didn’t get it. Whatevs.  Seriously, who wants to hang with a bunch of hipster Scientologists for a year anyway?