d i n a n e . n e t 

I left work yesterday just after 4:00. When I got to the door, I looked out and saw that it wasn’t raining so hard, but it was raining. Still. Five days later. I’ve now gone nearly six days without seeing the sun. This is likely to continue for at least another 72 hours, with a 30% chance of that continuing through next Monday.

Where are you, beautiful sun? Come out from hiding!

So, anyway, right, where was I? Oh yes, leaving work. I drove down route 9, in the rain, to the gym. I walked from the car, in the rain, into the gym, where I pedaled ridiculously hard to go nowhere for 45 minutes. I got me a “kitchen sink” shake (banana, strawberry, blueberry, pineapple juice, protein powder in both vanilla and strawberry flavors, and ice), and walked back to the car, in the rain. Drove home (in the rain), took a shower (kind of like rain), ate a couple leftover miniature Bisquick biscuits (okay, no rain this time), and went back out in the rain to my car.

At this point, the sky decided to really let loose. I turned off the radio and concentrated on two things – the road and my voice. I was on my way to Brighton to audition for a local Vocal Band. The trip took about 45 minutes, and during that time, I “brrrr”ed, “oooh”ed, “aaah”ed, and practiced intervals. As I got closer to my destination, I started singing my audition selection, “Since U Been Gone” as sung by Kelly Clarkson. (By the way, I really do hate that the title is spelled stupidly. I wish crappy/lazy/”leet” typing hadn’t made the jump out of instant messenger.)

Let me, just for a moment, express my distaste for exit 17 off of the Mass Pike. First, a description. Imagine the largest rotary (traffic circle) you’ve ever seen. Now stretch it to span about a half mile. Now give it a couple stop signs and one or two traffic lights. Then make it four lanes across. Finally, attach it to the exit from a major highway, a couple large roads, and a seemingly infinite number of side streets. Yeah, I hate exit 17. But luckily, I didn’t get lost, because Google Maps was kind enough to tell me that I should follow the sign toward Brighton.

I nervously followed the roads that I thought matched the map I’d tried to memorize, hoping that I wasn’t going to get lost. It was T-15 minutes to my audition time. I then had to go through another confusing (but not as scary) rotary. I almost ran a red light. Who the hell puts traffic lights in a rotary?! Massachusetts, that’s who.

Before I knew it, I was passing a house labeled 184. Then a house labeled 152. Woops. I passed it. Right turn, left turn, U-turn, right turn, left turn, eeny-meeny-miney-moe, I’ll just park here. The rain was sheeting down the windows of my car, so I couldn’t read the numbers on the opposite side of the road. I had ten minutes to spare, and I figured I’d just start walking along the street at T-2 minutes to find it.

As I sat in my darkened car on the side of a “major side street” (that’s what the guy who lives there called it!), I sang through the second verse, chorus, and bridge of “Since U Been Gone” (damn that U!). I ran though the minute long segment five or six times. During this period, I spotted two people parking their cars and running at top speed through the rain to a blue two-family house on the opposite side of the street. They were the right age to be in a vocal band, and I did have the impression that I was the first audition of the night. So, I guessed that was the place. Thankfully, I was right, because just when I decided that now would be a good time to get out of the car, the rain really started coming down.

I grabbed my water bottle, my purse, and my keys and took a deep breath. I then checked for traffic, opened the door, bolted across the street madly pressing the door lock button on my key, and ducked for cover under the porch roof of the blue house. The left entrance was marked 220. Thank goodness!

I rang the doorbell, and was invited into the living room. I sat in a wooden chair, and chatted with the band members. The percussionist was late, but he got there. We talked about some random stuff, the bass made comments about how the Casio keyboard could grow legs and dance, and I tried to stay friendly instead of nervous. We warmed up a bit, using a bizarre pattern of singing numbers, and the director checked the range of my voice. I made it to B, and squeaked out a C (that’s two octaves above middle C, for those who count). I probably could have gone higher, but I didn’t really feel like squeaking anymore. I made some offhanded comment about those notes are useless, and we checked the bottom end of my range. I had an E last night, not bad, but again, pretty useless in a group that has male voices.

I then stood up to sing my prepared bit. I asked for a moment to take a few breaths. In, out, in, out. Mentally check my pulse. Racing. Too fast. In, out, in, out, slow, the, fuck, down. I asked for a G, and started singing. I think I did a pretty good job. They seemed impressed. Sweet.

Then we started the “how fast can you learn music” part of the audition. I love this part, because I feel it’s the easiest way for me to impress people. I literally learned how to read music before I learned how to read the English language. You could say music is my first language. I sight read exceptionally well. We got through three different sections of songs (more than the one or two they originally said we’d likely get to) before the next girl showed up, and my time was up.

I shook all their hands, cracking a joke about how I’d forgotten all the names already, and thanked them for the opportunity. I walked out the front door, as the director wished me luck staying dry, and bolted back across the street to my car, keys in hand. Drive. Pray I don’t get lost. Windshield wipers on super-speed. Nearly get killed trying to get back on the Pike (frickin’ exit 17!). Drive. Try to prepare myself for disappointment. Home. Collapse.