For everyone who has been asking, Friday night went rather badly — I choked, I dropped lines, I wobbled. As I expected, I didn’t get the part. Thoughtful condolence gifts of dinner, flowers, expensive chocolates etc are always appreciated.

In fact, only one person out of the truckload of excellently qualified friends who also auditioned for various roles was cast. Which leads me to wonder, who the heck is in this show?

The casting chairman who called me was evidently rather distressed about the state of things, for he chatted with me for a few minutes about how he’d shown the committee clips he’d videotaped the past year of my vocal and stage work, and tried in every way possible to get me to come back. He also told me that the committee had authorised him to offer me an understudy role of the smallest part in the show, which is out of my range. And for a moment, I balanced between rage and laughing; I finally chose to laugh. He asked my reasons why I wasn’t coming back at all, and I told him frankly that I had been extremely frustrated last year by the lack of effort put into the show by the chorus, and that I felt as if I had been pulling more than my fair share of weight (apart from understudying two other roles and learning three different sets of blocking, I mean). The bickering, the attitudes, and the lack of professionalism amongst the chorus members irritated me to a point that it’s not worth going back. (In retrospect, being in the chorus last year was supposed to help me get a role this year, so technically I could count last year as a loss. I’m not going to think about that too hard.) The only two really bitter things about this are (a) that I won’t be working with Rob on-stage again, and (b) that Phoebe was the second of the two G&S roles I’ve ever actively wanted to sing (the first was Iolanthe, and if you’ve known me for over three years you know the nasty story behind that one too).

I was really upset on Friday night. I hate auditions because they suggest that it’s the best I can do, which I (and the casting committee) know damn well is not true. Some people audition better than others, and then (Iolanthe being a case in point) don’t improve through rehearsal. I think the shame and embarrassment I feel about audition failure revolves around the suggestion that I can’t do better, past proof to the contrary. I’m also trying to figure out why my auditions get worse as I get older and gather more experience singing. (I could trace the beginning of the end to being in a relationship with my husband, actually – I haven’t succeeded in an audition since we began courting.) The dialogue part of the audition, however, was fantastic, a fact with which I’m soothing my injured soul. This audition has shown me that it’s time to go back to straight theatre. As much as I love singing, and as good as I am at it, I’m not trained, nor do I have a piano or a teacher to work on my audition pieces with me, as other candidates do; I’m feeling it out and hoping I do it right, doing it by instinct. Time to stop agonising and just do what I’m good at for a while. So, all you theatre people out there — drop me a line and let me know when auditions pop up! I do have fourteen years of varied stage experience, after all (and I’m not counting high school).

The good part: I can re-join my book club (and re-read The Princess Bride by Tuesday — no problem), and have Fridays free for socialising and what-not (with all those friends who also won�t be in the show!). Silver lining.