Heartbroken (Stupid, I Know)

For those following my vaguebooking (vague facebooking), here's what's been happening.

The theatre I've performed most in beginning at age 3 when I had my first dance recital is doing my favorite show with my number 1 ultimate dream role in it.  This is the theatre grandmama and pop took me to every year growing up.  This is the theatre I did my first show in outside of high school.  I found out they were doing dream show about eight months ago.  Since then, I've been doing my very best not to think about it or psych myself out.  Said theatre has a tendency to do the same shows the same way with the same cast over...and over...and over again.  Figured it was all precast with people 10 years too old (at least) for their roles.  Slowly, over the last couple of months, I've been hearing rumors that this isn't the case.  The three roles that I figured would be reprised by the actors/actresses who were too old to play them seven years ago (the last time the show was done) were all supposedly open.  Cue beginning of Katharine freak out.  I wanted it so badly.  Didn't think the odds of it happening were particularly great.  But a lot has changed in the last year.  I've worked in a number of professional theatres in Dallas, I've learned a ton, and gained some confidence.  This is a role I know I could do--well. I could surprise people.  I could challenge myself.

So I went to the dance call. It was very reassuring. I was feeling pretty good. Prepared for audition/callback.  Got called back for dream role. Belted for dream role. Danced for dream role. Read for dream role--well. Very well.  No one else read for dream role all evening.

I get to rehearsal last night, and a girl who auditioned for the season mentions how another actress is indeed precast.
It is silly, I know, but I am absolutely heartbroken.  Crushed, really.  I actually had a shot.  I could've done this show.  I could have done this role.  And not only did I know that, but the director/producer/choreographer/music director knew that too. 

I feel totally and utterly defeated.

And the thing is it's bigger than just this role.  It's the comfort of the theater, the fact that I could've stepped out of the chorus for once and shown people what I can really do, and the fact that I can't imagine me doing anything that would have made my grandmother prouder.  It makes my heart ache thinking about it and all of the attachments I had to this possibility. And the fact that I had it for a little while but I don't anymore.

I'm supposed to go to a couple of auditions this weekend.  This experience has rocked the boat a bit too far, and I have no desire whatsoever to go to these other auditions--at better theatres, mind you.  But it's just not the same.  If cast, I'll be fifth girl from the left (and I know I'm always waxing eloquent about my love for the chorus in a good show and it's true--I really do love it) but we're talking The Full Monty and Joseph and the Amazing Technical Dreamcoat.  This is not Rodgers and Hammerstein or Sondheim.  So we'll see if they happen.

In the meantime, I'm trying to get back the mojo I had going for the last few weeks.  They've been really good weeks, y'all.  Much better than I've had in a while.  I love my friends and I love my job.  SMU hasn't been as much of a beating lately (except for theatre history class today in which I was told "the fact that you love musical theatre is your least endearing quality" but more on that later)...but I've been happy.

I have since deeply delved back into the funk and am trying to put the pieces back together to climb out once again.  This will be a doozy: wish me luck.