My American Idol Experience : Part 1

I didn't make it past the first round...

Sighhhhh...

Actually, I'm totally not bummed at all! I feel like I should be feeling some amount of rejection and/or upset, but... nothing. I had a fun time with my friend, met some new people, and sang some really great music.

Like I said in my last post, I got my wristband, and my adventure really started that day instead of on Saturday, the actual day of the auditions.

You see, it was hotter than Hades this past Thursday when the masses teemed outside the walls of the Gaylord Entertainment - wait... - The Sommet - wait... - No, the Bridgestone Arena (I swear, this arena has changed names more times in the past few years than Elizabeth Taylor has been married in her entire life). The information online said to show up at 7am, and show up at 7am we did.

Mistake #1.

When we got there, entire roads were blocked off, filled with more people than I've seen congregated in one place probably since ever (final tally was approximately 16,000+ singers - and that doesn't even count their moral support that they brought with them). The last time I auditioned, there was nothing like this. I walked inside, got my wristband, and that was it. That didn't quite happen here.

We got at the very end of the line and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

An hour later, we were still standing in the 90-degree heat, and guess what? I had decided that morning that it was a good idea to wear a long-sleeved shirt and long jeans.

Mistake #2.

I have absolutely no semblance of common sense.

As we inched forward in the line, I began to feel the effects of the overbearing sun beating down upon my painfully covered body. I was sweating so much that I looked as if I have just taken a quick dip in a nearby pool, and my face, I'm sure, looked mildly alarming without makeup and the slack muscles draping from my cheekbones. I did not have the energy to attempt to look like a human being. One might say that, at that precise moment, I looked like the walking dead. It also didn't help that my friend, Mary, started to feel faint in the humid summer heat.

Keep in mind that I am one of the most heat-intolerant people you will ever meet. Anything over 75 degrees is completely miserable to me. In fact, the colder the better. I mean, you can always put on another layer of clothing or a blanket, but you can only strip so much while maintaining a certain amount of decency in public. If it were up to me, I would have stripped down to absolutely nothing had there not been cops around. I did take off as much as I could, however, beginning with my long-sleeved shirt. I was wearing a very revealing tanktop underneath with spaghetti straps underneath it, but I didn't even care about decency anymore. The shirt was coming off, and that was that. Who cares if the girls were going to make an appearance? At least that would give straight guys and lesbians something to look at, right?

Additionally, we had forgotten our waterbottles inside the car.

Mistake #3.

We did, however, find an unopened bottle just laying in the street. It may sound gross to you, but we were desperate. Any water was drinkable water. And plus, it was unopened! That's still safe, right? Right? Although, I did glance longingly at an opened bottle or two lying in the gutter, weighing my options.

Die of dehydration, or drink the possibly infected water / homeless man pee? Truly a conundrum.

I decided to play it safe, but it felt like 1 more degree was added to the thermometer for each minute that passed. An hour or so later, when it was nearly 4 billion degrees outside, I began to join Mary in the fainty feeling - only my symptoms included nausea as well - and it was only exacerbated by the fact that we were stuck in the middle of a horde of smelly, sweaty people standing stagnantly outside the doors of the Bridgestone Arena. That was my breaking point. American Idol is not worth this! So Mary and I stepped out of line and sought refuge in a nearby restaurant where we guzzled water and ate scrumptious food. It was wonderful. Never in my life have I appreciated a glass of ice water more.

After around 30-45 minutes in this restaurant, we began to feel refreshed, and decided to venture back outside. To our surprise, though, the line had dwindled immensely, so we jumped back in line and got tickets and wristbands within 15 minutes. I was home in another 15.

For future reference, never show up to an American Idol audition when they tell you to. Show up several hours later. It makes the process a lot easier and more enjoyable. And much less hot.

The most annoying part? No sunscreen + spaghetti strap shirt = NOT EVEN THE SLIGHTEST HINT OF NON-PASTY COLOR ON MY SKIN! Why, oh, why must I be doomed with sun-resistant skin?? I am doomed to look like a Gothic chick for the rest of my life!!!

Tune in tomorrow for Part 2: The Big Wait! I'll fill you in on the actual audition process and how it all went down.

Then I promise we'll get back to our daily writing exercises. Plus, I have some excerpts from the WIP to share with you! I'm so excited, because I really want your opinions on what I've written.

Peace.
Stef.

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