I can’t believe I am on day three of this. But alas, I am, and here you are, so…Happy Thursday! If all goes well I should be able to finish this three-day-log Daily Dose up today, and still have time to squeak out a Broadway West blogisode tomorrow. Aces are high, and we are arriving in Vegas. But for now, we are still squarely in New York, in the year 2012 and I am writing about my crazy weekend.
If you are behind, go here to read the first two posts. It won’t take long.
Okay, so we left off with a cough. Cough, cough. Cough, cough, cough. And then the birthday girl announced in the
pitch black pre-dawn hours of her birthday, “Mommy. I’m sick.”
The cough, by the way, sounded like a 60-year-old smoker. Not good.
Let me give you a lay of the land of our to-do list for that day, and maybe you will understand why I kinda-sorta freaked out that Beaz was sick. Here’s the list:
1) Rob and Charlotte leave at 7:50 am on the subway to get Charlotte to school at 8:40 and Rob to teach at Pace at 9:00am.
2) Beatrix and I leave at 8:30 am in the car to get Beatrix to school in the Bronx by 9am and me to a faculty meeting in midtown at 9:30 am. Please note: I was going to be late to the meeting because driving from the Bronx to midtown Manhattan and allowing time for parking could take 6 or 7 days. I told them I might be “a little late” and decided I would simply pray a lot. In Yiddish, of course.
3) I would leave the faculty meeting at 11:00 am to get to my fancy TV show audition. Please note that means I am attending the faculty meeting looking like “Russian Jew, immigrant, heavyset.” Strangely that does not alter my fashion choice much, as I realize I routinely dress like a heavyset immigrant. I think that was Dansko clogs original target audience.
4) Attend TV audition. Speak flawless Yiddish. Please note that up until this moment of the day, the plan was to speak my Yiddish lines as a reply to any question. “Sharon, did you pack Beatrix’s lunch?” Me: “Ein nayem hitter fuhr dem nayem jahr!” “Sharon, did you call for the car?” Me: “Shayen vie dee veldt.” (Attention Vivian–,these are not my real lines. I don’t have the sides anymore, so I am making them up from memory. I am okay with taking a deduction on the quiz).
5) Get back to the parked car and run up to get Rob’s parents from our apartment to run a couple of quick errands before going to Beatrix’s school party (The plan was for them to make the food for the party in the am while we were all gone. And by “they” I mean Marlene, but Dom was instrumental in the grocery shopping extravaganza. Please note that Marlene and Beatrix had already made and decorated 24 confetti cupcakes for the school party.)
6) Go to Beatrix’s school party at 1:30.
7) Leave party with Dom, Marlene and Beatrix and race down to pick up Charlotte from school at 3pm.
8) Come home, and have about 90 minutes to completely transform the family apartment into a Minnie Mouse party pad. Get balloons and ice. Make food.
9) 4:30 pm, Rob home to help.
10) 5:30pm guests arrive. Party until 8:30ish.
11) Clean up, play with toys, blog and get Marlene and Dom packed up to catch their train home in the morning.
Okay. That was the to-do list.
I hope you can now see why a sick child might be a bit of a…..problem.
“Cough, cough, cough.”
Based on the coughing and the runny nose, “Mommy! There is water running out of my nose!” I made an executive decision to keep her home from the morning session of school (she goes to one class in the morning and moves to another class after lunch.) She got out of bed around 8:15 am and dragged herself to the bathroom, telling me the whole time she was sick.
I said, “Beatrix! It’s your birthday today!” And I’ll tell you what, that kid perked up immediately.
“Today? My birthday is today?”
“Am I four-years-old today?”
“Do I have presents?”
“Do I have a Minnie Mouse cake?”
“And a party?”
“Mommy! I feel so much better now!” And with that she ran out of the bedroom, straight into the living room and announced that it was her birthday to Marlene and Dom while standing in front of a large pile of presents.
Miraculous recovery, birthday style. Thanks to Cardinal Dolan, the patron saint of borderline coughs and colds.
So. I kept her out of school in the morning, but also decided to stay home and monitor her. The deal with any school is the kid can come as long as they don’t have a fever. She seemed…borderline. The thermometer said 98.6, but her eyes were droopy and it seemed things could change in a moment. It also seemed to make the most sense since I was going to be late to my meeting and then have to leave early for my audition….I mean at some point you just become a giant problem and no one wants you there anyway. This also meant I could get ready properly and not have to put makeup on while riding the subway, or while driving (not really while driving but while stopped in traffic.)
And once I was **”headshot ready” (**headshot ready is a term tossed around by my friend Jacob Brent who says that you have to always look like your 8×10 actor headshot because you never know who you are going to run into. This especially applies to certain zones in Manhattan, like, midtown, because all the theater types are walking around and you have to look good. I’m just going to put it out there that is a big BIG difference between a guy being headshot ready and a woman. Right?) Anyhoo, I tend to walk around without any makeup on at all, and this just about puts
Jacob over the edge. And even worse, I walk around without makeup on in midtown. And the worst offense? I will go see a show (like, ground zero for needing to be headshot ready) with not a stitch of makeup on. It’s shameful (according to Jacob). Okay, since I am running late (how can I be running late when I just gave myself an additional hour to get ready?) I jump in a cab and say my Yiddish out loud the entire way down. I have head phones in, and Amy Toporek and her mother Vivian coach me via voice memo the whole way to my audition, while my buddy Brynn, a regular at TV auditions, coaches me through the whole thing via text message. I even sent her a picture of myself so she could assess my hair and makeup. The reply was, “Take off 60% of your eye and lip makeup.”
And now, for the part of the story David Cleveland has been waiting for. I arrive at the casting office–which is not nearly as fancy and lovely as they are depicted in the movies, by the way, and the room is full of–you guessed it–women who look like heavyset Russian Jews. Very nervous and intense heavyset Russian Jews. The room was unusually quiet and tense.
I sat down and immediately the woman next to me turns and says, (in a slightly panicked voice), “Did you get the new scenes?”
The what? I think. “The what?” I say.
“They gave us new scenes and they are in YIDDISH.” She was almost crying.
I tried to process what she was saying. We had new scenes in Yiddish? Oh CRAP, I couldn’t fake my way through more Yiddish, I couldn’t do it without Vivian, who was my coach and my blog and (now) Facebook friend, but not someone I had on speed dial. No way. But then I though, just maybe…
I asked the nervous actress next to me, “Can I see your sides?”
And there they were. The scenes I already knew in Yiddish. The very ones I’d coached and memorized. The ones that
I knew in not one, but two dialects because of my blog buddies Amy and Vivian. I kept my cool, but in my head I was throwing a party because somehow I was the only actress in the room that had all the Yiddish ahead of time.
So, you know, I did a great job. At least with the Yiddish. And my audition was quick and they asked me to fix a couple of things, and do it again, and off I went, happy as a clam because now all I had to do was everything Beatrix all the time.
I jumped in ANOTHER cab and raced back up to my apartment (for a grand total of $50 in cabs), where I got my car, picked up an excited Beatrix and Dom and Marlene and off we went to drop Beaz off at school at 12:30. So all told, my TV audition took an hour including commute. Not bad.
So here is what I want to say about Beatrix and her being sick all of the time. First of all, when we got to school, everything had to be sealed into plastic bags and the kids hair had to be checked one by one because there was a lice outbreak. Wonderful. Second of all, as Dom and Marlene and I were sitting there for Beatrix’s party, I couldn’t help but notice that two of the eight kids seemed to be running fevers. And on top of it–I’m not kidding when I say this–it was about 85 degrees in that classroom. I mean, the place is just a huge petri dish. I came
out of that joint wanting to hose down like Meryl Streep in that movie about the nuclear plant….argh…what’s it called….you know what I mean? They have the spill….not China Syndrome…..wait, I’ll Google (pause–insert theme song) SILKWOOD, that’s it.
Ugh. I just looked down and I am at 1,631 words, and it is 12:21 am. Should I keep going? Rob just said yes, I have to, I promised. I don’t understand how this has become longer than War and Peace but I will finish. I will finish. I will start to cut corners, but I will finish.
And they all lived happily ever after.
No? Too short? Okay. Here’s how it went down. We got Beatrix out of the lice-y germ factory (I really love her school, so before you write me letters that I should pull her out, just know that all preschools are like this), got Charlotte, and made it home by about 4pm. I immediately
got to work cleaning checked my computer, and then got to work cleaning up. I sent my sweet father-in-law on what turned out to be a wild goose chase to get balloons filled, and to get ice, while Marlene cleaned the kitchen and I reaaranged furniture, got the food out, hung decorations and did all that stuff. Charlotte was a super sister and kept Beaz entertained and out from underfoot.
By the way, Beatrix just this second, woke up crying with a hacking cough, because the miraculous birthday recovery expired as soon as her birthday was over. Rob went to bed with her, but my time is limited, folks. He just popped his head in here and said that her ear hurts. Crap shit damn. But I digress.
The party was great. We served a delicious Weight Watchers casserole (it really is so good, I swear) and a big salad and there were presents and Minnie Mouse cake and it was all good and super fun. And now I know Beatrix’s ear hurts and I am totally distracted so I have to go. That poor kid. But, her birthday was awesome. And I don’t think I got the TV job, because I haven’t heard anything, but I’m still really proud of myself and so grateful to the mother/daughter coaching team of Amy and Vivian. I’m sure they are available to coach your next audition.
Thanks to all of you for joining me on this 3-day-long Daily Dose, and I should tell you that our blog star Traci Lyn is out of surgery (after 8 hours!) and in recovery. She’s in pain but according to her husband has some morphine and even a little sense of humor. Thanks for the prayers.
Also, a shout out to my in-laws who might not EVER want to visit us again after this crazy weekend, but we loved having them here and they win major good-sports awards. (And they must be so happy to be home.)
And we find out this weekend about Charlotte’s scholarship exam.
And have I tied up every loose end?
(For the Daily Dose wrap up and epilogue to these posts, please go here.)