Halloween is by far my least favorite holiday.  And I blame it all on the "Haunted Basement" hosted by Jamie Adair every year.  Jamie loves Halloween.  Ever since I can remember, she has invited all of her friends over for hotdogs and beverages.  However, when I was younger (circa four years old), Jamie thought it would be a great idea to create a "Haunted Basement".  And Kelley Randall Castaneda will also quote, "I was always the kid that dressed as a witch every year.  I was also the kid that sat in the carport eating a lot of hotdogs while all the other kids went through the haunted house.  I couldn't help it.  It was scary down there."  And I'll back her up on it.  That crap was scary.  I mean, I watched a lady that had played my mother in a show two months before that walk up from the basement with a candelabra in her hand, dressed in all black, with blood smeared all over her face.  This was a far cry from her collared dress and apron that she wore in The Music Man. I mean, I realize she was really trying to be theatery and all, but give a kid a break for God's sake.

By far, the moment that really hit home and triggered my hatred for Halloween occurred during this same year.  I, like Kelley, was dressed as a witch, green face, bowl cut, mole and all.  Now, my father, being the theatery man he is, always participated in the Haunted Basement.  Well, for some reason, I went into the Haunted Basement.  I was only four, so I don't quite remember what possessed me to enter, whether it was my mom taking me through or me going  under my own will.  The point is, it was a mistake.  I enter into the basement.....I see many scary people that strangely resembled many of my neighbors....and as I enter into the next room, I see a man with slicked back black hair, blood around his mouth, white face, and a vampire cape lit by a strobe light and standing over a woman who was dressed in shredded white gown---screaming.  The man was simultaneously screaming and cackling while waving his robe over the screaming woman (again, let me remind you that he was lit by a strobe light which make any experience ten times more intense.....and I was four).  Well, this man/vampire was my father.  Of course, I was so shocked and traumatized by the fact that a vampire was about to eat one of my neighbors, that I didn't even realize it was my father.  That is, until he pulled out his vampire teeth, looked at me while I was screaming, and said "Taylor! It's me!"  It was then that I realized that my father is a vampire.  I've hated Halloween ever since. 

Another reason I hate Halloween is because everybody dresses like sluts.  Don't deny it.  You've done it before.  And I definitely won't deny it.  I've tried.  But the only time I tried was when I was eight years old.  I was really into watching Nick at Nite that year and I watched a whole lot of "I Dream of Genie"....therefore I wanted to dress as the genie.  The costume called for a bare stomach.  I was all about it.  But my mother opted for me to wear a turtleneck under the suit....."because it was a little chilly".  After that, I wasn't about dressing up dirtily for Halloween.  I was never a dirty nurse, or dirty cowgirl, or dirty police officer, or dirty bumblebee, or dirty kitten, or dirty prisoner, or dirty Raggedy Ann doll.  So I never really fit in at Halloween.  My outfit choices have been Betty Rubble, a nun, Bon Qui Qui, a Drunk Bus pilot, and a crab.  It's just not my thing.  

So, this year, I've decided to not let Halloween get the best of me.  Oh no.  I'm in control now.  I will happily spend my Halloween at Talbots, overeating Reese's, and hopefully end my day scaring children who come to trick-or-treat.  I mean dang, I took it for years....so now I'm going to dish it.  

And for now, at least I'm not this kid.

  

First of all, I just want to go ahead and put this out there.
PC Homecoming--1
All of 2-Crunk--0
I'm too old to be doing the matrix dance move that I continuously did at the Sigma Nu house.  My lower back is still recovering.  But I would like to applaud John Mark Elliot for the incredible charisma, creativity, and sheer genius that he brings to the dance floor. I may or may not have ripped his shirt doing a dance move. Once again, we killed it.
Taylor and John Mark--1
Dance Floor--0

Now on to the real point of the blog.  A couple of months ago, I was taking a soothing bubble bath to calm my nerves.  When all of the sudden, Kim busts into the bathroom and says "Taylor, get out of the tub.  Your sister just took a pregnancy test and it's positive.  Oh Jesus."  So we learned that my big sister was pregnant....and needless to say, I almost peed my pants.  I could not have been more pumped.  Is it bad that I immediately thought, "Gosh I'm going to corrupt this kid so badly"?  I personally don't think so.  So, the past two months have been nothing but me addressing Kelley's stomach as "Baby Cecil" and rubbing her stomach in public inappropriately.Needless to say, I've been really pumped to be an aunt.
We found out on Friday morning that the little bambino will be a girl.  And since I've obviously been a mother many times, I started giving Kelley parenting advice, such as playing music for the baby, what to do with the nursery, and of course, the fact that the baby should be named Taylor......she didn't accept that advice.  Whatever.
But ever since we found out that the little one will be a GIRL, I've been thinking about things that I will teach/do to/make her do.  And of course, I will compile this into a list.


1.  I will be the biggest "Stage Aunt" that there ever was.  By "Stage Aunt", I mean that I will force this kid to audition for many many many shows.  I will take 9000 pictures at every dance recital she is in.  I will buy her musical theater t-shirts.  I will force her to be in Annie at least once.  While she spends the night at my house (God willing I have one), we will listen to Broadway shows and perhaps even create a dance routine to it.  And I will force her to sing a new song for me and perhaps even do a monologue every month.  And I'm sorry....but if this kid isn't talented, I just don't know if I'll be able to accept it.

2.  I will teach her what Tommy Addison taught to me when I was a youngster.  It goes like this.
      The Adult Asks:  What does the butt say?
      The Kid Replies:  *proceeds to do a farting noise
    I consider this a really charming trait.  I'm glad that I learned how to do it. And she will too.

3.  I will teach her my amazing dance skills.  When Kelley went to PC, she was known for cutting a rug on the dance floor of the fraternity houses.  I'd like to think that I was known for the same thing during my run.  Once again, if this child can't dance, I don't know if I'll be able to accept it.  I mean, Kelley and I have attended many-a-wedding where we have cleared the dance floor and had circles of people watching us.  At her bachelorette party, we had an entire bar surrounding us, taking pictures, and watching us kill "Soulja Boy". Therefore, this kid has to know how to dance.  I don't care what it takes.  She'll work, she'll sweat, she'll cry....but by God, she will dance well.

4.  I will go with her to get her first tattoo.  Yes.  She's getting a tattoo......and I'd prefer it if it was my portrait.  You know the ones that tattoo-clad Kat Von D always does on LA Ink?  Yeah.  One of those.  I hope she gets one.

5.  I will write a song for her.  Now I told my sister that I've always wanted to write songs for my kids or her kids.  So you'd think that she would have the dignity to give her child a name that MAYBE I can rhyme with.  But no....her ideas for names are Ava Wynne.....Ryder....McLaurin.....and it continues.  Seriously?  What the hell do I rhyme with McLaurin? "Ohhh McLaurin.  You're a chick.....darlin?"  This may be difficult

6.  I will NOT pressure her to go to cheerleading tryouts.  Not that my family did.  No.  They did the complete opposite.  Which would have been to my great benefit, had I listened to them. But I didn't.  Instead, I went to cheerleading tryouts....and I thought I had it in the bag.  I thought I was a star.  And I thought my toe-touches were legit.  Little did I know that I looked like a FOOL.  And my family didn't have the heart to tell me that I looked....really bad.  So I didn't get in....needless to say.  And I cried. And my principal saw me crying, felt sorry for me, and told me that it was good that I didn't get in because it would "ruin my voice".  Wow.  OK....it's decided.  She will not try out for cheerleading.

7.  She will love the Stones, Hanson, Elton John, Cher, the Beatles, Ke$ha, and GaGa.  Basically, she will be me.

8.  I will take her to New York with me and take her to all the shows I want to see and force her to like and appreciate them.  She will be so theatery....it's just ridiculous.  I can't wait.

9.  I will teach her how to trick her parents into going to a Christmas party in order to completely cover their house in Christmas lights....at least 1000 lights.....and including a light up nativity scene and a 5 foot blow up Santa Claus.  It's not like I've done this before.....

10.  I will teach her to learn to laugh at herself.  First, this will require that she gets a bowl cut at some point in her life.  Second, she'll have to fall a lot.  And I don't mean like "emotionally fall"....I mean literally fall down on her face.  Third, she will have to have a really awkward encounter with a person/director who could give her a job/part.  This includes awkwardly hitting people on the shoulder and stuttering....a lot.

I can't wait for her to be here.  And I never thought I'd say this, but I can't wait to be an aunt.  Granted I refuse to change poop diapers or deal with a lot of loud and obnoxious crying.  But I think I'll be pretty good at my job as aunt.  Basically, this kid is going to be really freaking cool. And if it's not, I can always just give it back to Kelley when I'm done messing with it.

And until then, at least I'm not this kid.

After I graduated college (a college in which, by the way, I ROCKED the dance floor (that comment's relevance will be shown later in the blog) at), I decided it would be a great idea to take a year off in between grad school to "live".........whether or not that turned out to be a good idea is completely erroneous.
The point is, I decided to move up to CharTown because it's a bigger city, there's a lot of opportunity (again, whether or not that's true is completely erroneous), it's still accessible to the homestead, and they have a great professional children's theater.  So tonight I find out there's an audition for "Scrooge", which by the way, may or may not be the story of my father's life.
So I'm really excited, right?  It's a professional audition.  It could give me a little street cred.  It gives me an opportunity to sing in front of some people that may be connected somehow in the arts.  And maybe there will be a male suitor there........or perhaps a new gay bestie.
Now, you can ask Josh Martin or Anna Katherine Moore and they will be happy to tell you the thing I hate most about theater.  The thing I hate most about the theater:  theatery people.  If you don't what I'm talking about, I'd be happy to explain "theatery people" characteristics in a list:
1.  People who constantly talk about the shows that they have done....example:  "Why, yes, I was in Beauty and the Beast.  I was the 3rd spoon from the left".  Here's a hint, Shakespeare.  I hate you and I hate your previous experiences in theater.
2.  People who obnoxiously stretch/warm up before an audition.  Example:  There was a girl today who, first of all, came into the audition with a black leotard on.....only.  I mean, dang.  At least put on a skirt.  She sat in front of me for an hour doing butterfly stretches, stretching her legs up against the walls, lunging, and basically screaming.  She was trying to "make sure everything was warm in her voice".  If it would have been appropriate to throw my jazz shoe at her face, I totally would have.
3.  People who think it's ok to wear "Wicked" t-shirts, knee socks with stripes, too many arm bracelets/silly bands, and jeans with a lot of holes in them to an audition.  This isn't OZ.  Get your life together and put on a suit, fool.

So, since I haven't been to an audition in a while, I was re-immersed in the hatred that I have for over the top theatery people and the audition process in general.  I literally sit in a corner with my theatery bag, my attempt at an outfit to wear for a dance call, and my cell phone, taking sly and candid pictures of these crazies.  But it always provides for a good laugh....and someone for me to text Kelley about and make fun of.
When I got to the audition tonight, I realized also that this audition was going to mix my dislike for a thing I hate alot, theatery people, with a thing I dislike even more, which is theatery kids.  God knows that I try to have patience for them.  After all, I was probably just like them when I was 11 or so.....but they didn't have as cool of a bowl cut as I did.  I mean, I did buy a Rent shirt the first time I saw it.....and I wore a Wicked shirt to the first improv show I ever saw so they would notice that I liked theater.....and I may or may not have only Broadway songs on my iPod.  ERRONEOUS.  The point is, I tried to have patience, but I couldn't.  These kids were crazy.  They literally bounced all around the room.  One looked at me and said "Oh my God.  I forgot how my song goes....can you sing the first part of A Whole New World for me?" And I did.  One little girl practiced singing "Popluar" from Wicked for 30 minutes in the corner while pacing back and forth.  She was a culprit of wearing those friggin tall socks.  It was literally like High School Musical on crack.
 But then a little glimmer of light shone.  And her name was Ashley.  She was four years old.  She was eating chocolate goldfish....which I didn't even know existed.  And best of all, she had light up shoes.  And they not only lit up on her heel, they also lit up on her toes.  Seriously?  Where was this circa 1994 when we wore light up shoes?!  And these were Chuck Taylors! She was so cool.  I will admit that she didn't, by any means, change my mind about theatery kids because she had on an "Annie" t-shirt, but it was still pretty cool that she had light up shoes.
The audition went really well! And theeeeen the dance callback happened.  And although I did take movement styles with Sally Besuden, Anna Katherine Moore, and Josh Martin, and I admit, I danced my d#*k off, it didn't help too much.  I've never been much of a dancer......outside of the fraternity houses.  Whatever.  At least I smiled alot.....right?
But, another day, another dolla, another audition.  Oh the life of a struggling artist.
And until then, at least I'm not this guy.