July 26, 2007

Life's bitter disappointments.

My daughter is in drama camp this week. It's the first time she's ever done anything like this before, and I think her sudden interest in the theatre stems from my recent participation in the local civic theatre. Anyway, I picked her up today and she had an incredibly sour look on her face so I asked her what was wrong.


I told her I could tell something was wrong, so why doesn't she just tell me.


Anyway, I waited until we got in the car and then I asked her again to tell me what was wrong. Then she goes into how she didn't get the part she auditioned for and that she kept getting knocked out of the bathtub and into the darkness. I understood not getting the role, but the rest of it was bizarre to say the least, until she explained the bathtub was part of a scene they were doing. I tried to explain to her that it's rough not getting the part she wanted, but that happens sometimes and that she should still try and do the best that she can with the part she did get (she's apparently part of the court), and try to not let the disappointment ruin the rest of her fun while she's in camp. She had to let her sorrow wash through her for a little while before she could smile and think life was worth living again. And, I understand that. Sometimes we like to just stew in our misery, don't we?

Once she'd finished feeling sorry for herself, the contempt came into play. "I don't even know why the girl who got the part got it," she said. "She doesn't even say the right words."

I told her that it's the director's job to worry about people not doing their jobs and that she should just concentrate on making sure she does her role the way she's supposed to. I think she understands that, but I totally get that she's got to trash the little ho that stole her part.

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