All right, all right, this is good, this is fine. I can do this. I’m good. Yeah. This is cool.
I like that girl’s outfit. Oh, who are her friends? This is good. This is cool. I wish I had a group of girlfriends who hung out all the time like that. Are they dressed alike? Cute. It’s working for them. I like it. That’s fucking adorable.
Wait.
What’s going on?
Why do they seem to be getting into a circle? This look choreographed –
HOLD ON!
No…no…did she just snap? Is she SNAPPING? Why is she snapping?
OMG THEY’RE GONNA SING, AREN’T THEY?!
Oh, it’s happening.
Why are they singing? Who does that? Nobody does that!* Okay, this isn’t cool anymore. I’m not cool. I’m not good. Let’s stop singing. Don’t dance – now they’re dancing! DON’T DANCE! Why are they dancing? Who does that? Nobody does that!* Let’s stop dancing.
Please make it stop. Please make it stop. Please make it –
All right, they stopped. Thank god. Okay. I’m okay. I’m good. This is all right. Still diggin’ the outfits.
Oh, who’s he? Hello.
…Why does that guy have a gleam in his eye?
OH MY GOD, HE’S GONNA –
And that, my friends, is how I experience the musical.**
It’s gotta be some deep-seated issue or something. I have no idea why, but you put me in front of a musical – on TV, the big screen, or live – and I panic. I feel mild anxiety just anticipating the singing, and then when the singing starts? My blood pressure rises, my jaw clenches, sometimes I even feel nauseous or light-headed.
Once, one of my BFF’s made me watch an episode of Glee with her. I don’t even remember what happened in the episode or I’d tell you, but I think I blacked out. All I remember is being shaken from my stupor by her saying, “My god, Andrea – it’s over, you can unclench your fists!”
I had, in fact, been gripping my hands in fists the entire time.
But I keep trying, because musicals are fun, right? They’re lighthearted! They’re a whimsical romp, if you will!
I tried again last weekend.
Nope.
No, gracias.
No can do.
Lesson learned.
xA
*Except weird theatre school kids. Trust me. I know them. This is their life and they love it, so go for it, I say.
**Except for: Hedwig and the Angry Inch, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Black Rider, and, oddly enough, Grease. I cannot explain this. Well, I can explain the first three like this:
Maybe I just like boys in makeup…
Oh, who am I kidding? I LOVE BOYS IN MAKEUP!
31 October, 2012 at 13:34
I think by Grease you meant “GREASE 2” because it’s brilliant. And if you don’t love it, you haven’t watched it with me.
Also, you left out Cabaret. Cabaret at least justifies most of the musical numbers (depending on which version you’re watching) by making them actual cabaret performances–performances that give me the chills.
Other than those two (and the ones you mentioned) I’m with you on the musicals thing. Barf.
Wait–I might be persuaded to like Chicago.
BUT THAT’S IT.
Oh! Unless we’re talking Les Mis. That show is achingly beautiful.
NOW THAT’S IT.
Buuuut…I have a soft spot in my heart for Little Shop of Horrors.
Huh. Do I actually like musicals? When did this happen? And how?
31 October, 2012 at 15:51
COUGHMUSICALLOVERCOUGH.
It’s okay though! I am totally down with people who love musicals, I just need to stop trying to force myself to love them too! I did leave one out, though – Sweeney Todd (again, boy in makeup) (I’ve only seen the movie version and I love it).
I haven’t seen Cabaret! I feel like I might like it because ever since Arrested Development I adore Liza. Mostly because she’s insane and totally okay with it.
3 November, 2012 at 11:54
DON’T CALL ME A MUSICAL LOVER!!!!! BAHHHHH!!!!!!
But watch Cabaret and tell me it doesn’t make you lose your shit and feel feelings…and bow at the feet of Liza.
THEN who will be the musical lover?!
3 November, 2012 at 15:05
Okay, okay! I’ll watch Cabaret and report back. if I don’t have a seizure brought on by the extreme discomfort.
I already bow at Liza’s feet daily. In my mind.