January 10
Dear Diary,
I was pretty bummed when I came back from Christmas break. I mean, a week of watching movies and opening presents, and now I’m back to doing multiplication?!? Especially since Mrs. Bran changed our seats. I’m sitting next to booger-wiping Joey now. Ick.
But guess what? Guess what guess what guess what?? I went to music class, and there was Mrs. Wickle, and I knew something was weird right away because she wasn’t all pouty like she normally is. She made us all sit in a circle instead of at the tables, which I didn’t love because hello? I’m eight, not a kid. But then she clapped her hands together and pointed to a sign up sheet and started talking about how we were going to put on a play! We can audition if we want to, and the show is in March! It is called “The Adventures of Ruby the Rabbit.” Mrs. Wickle told us that it’s about a rabbit and her friends trying to save their garden.
Gee, I’ve never been in a play before, but I went and saw the Wizard of Oz at Ren’s school. I spent the rest of that day thinking about how awesome it is that people get money just for dressing up and acting like someone else. It’s a bummer there isn’t money involved in this show, but hey, I’m going to need some practice before I move to L.A and get a job.
Auditions are tomorrow, and I’ve been singing in front of the mirror and practicing the lines that were handed out on a piece of paper in class. Yesterday I started singing in the living room and my mom shut her bedroom door and didn’t come out until dinner. But at least baby Emmy seems to like it! Except this afternoon when I was practicing lines and she threw up right on the floor.
January 12
Dear Diary,
My palms were all sweaty the whole day. We had music as the last class of the day, and I had to get sent out in the hallway three times during math because I couldn’t sit still. Mrs. Wickle read out everyone’s part while we were getting our recorders out. I thought my heart was going to fall right on the floor. I got cast as The Carrot. I guess it’s pretty official, being the carrot, not just a carrot.
I got Mick to try out too! Well, I didn’t. Her mom made her. She said that she’d rather eat a bowl of dirt than go on stage. But she accidentally eats dirt all the time at soccer practice, so I don’t know what the big deal is.
January 20
Dear Diary,
Okay, so I may have underestimated a few things.
First of all, The Carrot? She’s got a lot of lines. The only thing I’ve ever memorized before is a grocery list, when mom forgot it at home. Usually, I forget what I came into a room to get one minute ago.
Second of all, remember when I said that Mrs. Wickle was in a better mood? Welp, she’s back to her normal self. Today, she was trying to work on a scene where Ruby and her rabbit friends are fighting the big bad rats. The first graders play the rats. They were crawling around, and Timmy pulled on one of their tails (pieces of fabric taped to their shirt). The kid started crying, and then Maggie bonked Timmy over the head with her plastic pitchfork (she’s a farmer). Mrs. Wickle said she needed a minute to reflect, so she walked out into the hall. I can’t be sure, but I think I heard her saying, “Siri, call my therapist.”
January 31
Dear Diary,
It turns out, dressing up and pretending to be someone else isn’t really that simple. It’s also really, really tiring. I couldn’t get through more than two sentences today without Mrs. Wickle stopping me and telling me to try again. How do people get up onstage and perform so naturally? While I was saying my lines, instead of it feeling like I was pretending, it kind of felt like I was lying.
I guess it wasn’t a great day for anyone. The fifth grader who is playing Ruby didn't memorize the part that Mrs. Wickle told her to. One of the first graders was crying because her tail was too long. Also, the parent helpers forgot to bring snacks.
After rehearsal, Mrs. Wickle had a whole speech about how “great of an opportunity” this is. She talked about how she missed her opportunity to be on Broadway because she broke up with her boyfriend, who was playing her husband in the show. So apparently, she doesn’t want us to “miss an opportunity” like she did.
February 8
Dear Diary,
I was dragging my feet all the way to rehearsal, but when I walked into the room, Mrs. Wickle was at the front with this huge box of costumes. She handed me an orange dress and this funny looking green hat. We start rehearsing in our costumes next week! Maybe things will get a little easier now that I at least look like my character!
February 12
Dear Diary,
I have some bad news. Mick got her costume and she HATES it. It’s a really pretty green dress (she plays The Asparagus), but she says that it makes her feel sick to even think about wearing it onstage. I tried to encourage her, saying that it looked great, and besides, the only people that would really be paying attention are her parents. But she slouched in her chair and read a book for the rest of rehearsal.
February 13
Dear Diary,
Um, so...this dress situation may be a little worse than I thought it was. Today, Mick tried to stick her dress in the drain in the bathroom. The only reason that she didn’t was because Snitchy Sophie caught her and ran to tell Mrs. Wickle. She got a 45-minute lecture from one of the parents, and then Mrs. Wickle made her say all of her lines twice.
Mrs. Wickle’s attitude isn’t getting a lot better, either. Actually, it’s worse. Today, she snapped at a kid because his chip crunching was too loud. To be fair, he also stuffed a whole bag of chips in the spotlight, but still, it only took 45 minutes and three knives from the cafeteria to get it out. Mrs. Wickle said that the play looks like a train wreck, and if we didn’t step it up, she wasn’t even sure if she could show it to our parents. Maybe I was complaining a bit about my lines, but I’ve gotta be honest; I keep feeling this strange rush in my stomach whenever I go onstage, but it doesn’t feel sick. It kind of feels good.
February 28
Dear Diary,
I think Mick and I are in a fight. Today she didn’t sit with me at lunch, and when I looked at her from across the room, she looked constipated. I think she was trying to look mad.
You see, yesterday at rehearsal, Mick went to the bathroom and she was gone for a really long time. Mrs. Wickle asked me to go see if she was okay, but when I went to the bathroom, she wasn’t there! And then I looked out the window, and I saw her in the playground field. I rushed out there, and when I came closer, she was RUBBING HER DRESS IN THE GRASS! I couldn’t help it! I snatched it out of her hands and then I yelled “HOW COULD YOU?” She kicked some dirt at me, then said that I had no right to get in her “personal space.” Well, I didn’t know what to do, so I gave her back the dress and ran inside. I’m not really sure why she’s so mad at me. Shouldn’t she be mad at Mrs. Wickle? Maybe she’s just mad at the world.
February 28 (later)
Dear Diary,
I was going to go to sleep, but I had a great idea! Last year, my family went to a Bat Mitzvah for our cousin. Ren wore this suit that he hated. It was green, and it kinda looks like Mick’s dress! So I was thinking, maybe she can wear the suit pants and a green shirt, and then she won’t have to wear the dress! Besides, wouldn’t she look more like a piece of asparagus with pants instead of a dress?
February 29
Dear Diary,
This morning, after Ren got on the bus, I stuffed the pants into my backpack. My mom asked why my bag was bigger than usual, and I just said I was bringing an extra reading book since I was almost done with the one I had. She didn’t even bat an eyelash. When I got to school, Mick still wasn’t talking to me, but during recess, I pulled her over by her elbow (she growled at me a bit, but it was worth it). I gave her the pants (which I had stuffed in my coat) and said that we could use safety pins so they would fit her.
I wasn’t sure if she would forgive me, but then she gave me a huge hug and said that even though she still hated acting, it would be a little better now that she was wearing something that wasn’t scratchy and ugly and gross. Mrs. Wickle didn’t even notice the costume change, because today one of the fourth graders jumped in the garbage can during our run through.
“Ready?” I jumped out of my seat, almost spilling my mascara on the floor.
“Uh...not quite yet, hah,” I murmured to David, who already had his headset on, ready to take directions. I realized how unprepared I was, only one of my feet in a jazz shoe, my makeup half done, and my skirt on, but my hoodie instead of my jacket. We still had an hour, but when you’re on Broadway, apparently an hour is like having five minutes. Somehow, though, I knew my adrenaline would get me through.
All around me, people were stretching, doing vocal warm-ups, getting their mics checked, and going over dances. For the first time in about five months, I just stopped for a second. I thought about that first play in third grade, how I never would have guessed that a chaotic mess of a show would turn into my whole life.
When I stepped on the stage, peaking at the audience, I saw a ton of versions of my younger self. And one sentence kept repeating itself in my head. She would be proud.