It Won't Be OK

There are two pictures that come to mind when I think about her.  One is from a year ago. A self proclaimed Disney skeptic running in front of me toward Disney's Animal Kingdom, looking back at me with a huge smile yelling "COME ON!" 

And one is from just a couple days ago. Her on the other side of this wall, choosing to leave this earth.   The evil of that second picture haunts me.  It creeps in at unexpected moments, stabbing me in the heart.  When this pictures appears in my mind without permission, I push it away with that smiling, gorgeous, blonde, vivacious girl.

I know there are a lot of hurdles in the future.  I know I will someday have to go back into that space. I know I will have to get my Christmas decorations down from above the spot where she decided to give up.  I will try to reclaim the things that remind me of her that used to bring me joy.

About a week ago, when she was still here, her dog ran outside and bit me - two days in a row.  She apologized and grabbed him. He has lived in our house for more than three years and never bit me.  Maybe he knew of the turmoil inside of her. 

Today I tried to find a little joy, so I got a pedicure.  As the woman massaged my legs, I noticed the bruise from him biting me and I started to cry.  It seems so wrong that the bruise is still there, but she is gone - forever. 

So if I seem a little quieter, it's because right now life just seems a little dimmer.  We are used to getting through things by believing that someday it was be ok, but this will never be ok.  So instead of trying to make it ok, I will try to face it and just keep going because this is part of my story now.  The best way I can honor her is by living the fullest life I can live.

Entrance of Animal Kingdom

Ice Skating for Dummies

The phone lit up with a familiar phone number.  I recognized the first six numbers - 714-781-XXXX.  Disney was calling, but I didn’t know the last four numbers.  I picked it up, “Hello?”

“Hi Liz, this is Amanda from Disney Special Events.  We would like to invite you to an audition for a special event.” Already this was weird.  I had done special events for Disney before, but I had never had to audition for it. “Do you ice skate?”

The honest truth is no.  I didn’t ice skate.

I replied, "Sure.”

So let’s just pause for a second.  I know that technically that was a lie, but I had ice skated once when I was in 6th grade.  I figured the audition would be at least a week away and I would have time to get steady on my feet.  I mean, I’m an amazing rollerblader -  I was sure I could pick up ice skating.

“Great!  Sorry this is so last minute, but we are holding auditions tomorrow at 9am.  So we will see you at Anaheim Ice tomorrow.”

My face turned red.  My heart started pounding. I had to sit down. Was I really going to show up at an audition tomorrow when I had absolutely no idea if I could actually ice skate?

You bet.

When I got there I interviewed with the show director first and then skated second. Before I knew it I was joking and laughing with the show director. If I could just not look like a complete idiot on the ice, I just might get the gig.

I grabbed some rental skates and sat down watching the other girls.  It was very obvious who could skate and who couldn’t just by their arms.  If a girl had her arms out straight in front of her like a zombie, she was a rookie.  When she knew what she was doing her arms were relaxed.  I knew I couldn’t control my arms because I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.  But by the grace of God, just as I was finishing up my laces and moments from walking onto the ice, my friend Michelle sat down next to me.  I looked at her and I figured it out.

“Michelle, I know this is going to sound crazy, but can I borrow your scarf?”  Being the kind human she is, without even a question, she took off her scarf and gave it to me.  I wrapped it around my neck once with the excess hanging in front.  I was going to hold onto that scarf with all my might because then at least my arms wouldn’t be flailing about.

I walked over to the ice and stood there looking at it.  What would it feel like to step onto it?  I remembered it being kind of slippery.  Would I just immediately fall on my ass?  Would I suddenly become scooby doo where my feet were pushing like a maniac but I would stay stationary? I looked around at the huge oval rink and made an exit strategy.  I was entering the rink at one end and if it went humiliatingly bad, I could just crawl back out the way I came in.  If it wasn’t the worst, but wasn’t good - I would hopefully be able to push my way to the other end and get off the ice as fast as possible.  If it was going well, maybe I could make a lap or two. I had no idea what was going to happen, but there was only one way to find out.  I pushed off onto my right foot like I was a freakin’ olympian.  I stood tall, stuck my chest out in confidence, and gripped that scarf like my life depended on it.  I stayed steady on just my right foot for about six feet when I heard my name.

“Liz. We know you can skate.  You can get off the ice.”

The choreographers and stage director knew I was a great rollerblader so they just assumed I was a fantastic ice skater.  I just glided along on my right foot until I got to the next exit and stepped out.  My left foot never even touched the ice.

I got the call. I got the gig!

Oh god.  

Now what?  I got hired to be an ice skater and had no idea how to ice skate.

I literally went out and bought the book, "Ice Skating for Dummies". I went to the rink every single day from the time I got the call to our first rehearsal.  I tried so hard to look as graceful on that slippery floor as I did on the pavement of skateparks.  I was going to do my best to not look like a total fool.

At the first rehearsal they surprised us with some interesting news, “You are going to be doing an outdoor show at Disney’s California Adventure.  Because the weather is so warm, instead of skating on ice,  you will be skating on teflon.”  Yep, the same stuff that you cook on, we skated on.  We strapped on our skates and hit the rink.  It felt exactly like a skatepark.  I was in heaven.  I suddenly and accidentally look pretty darn good. Unfortunately for the other ice skaters, this was strange and confusing.  There was a lot of falling and frustration.

The honest truth is none of that should have worked out for me.  I shouldn’t have been called for that audition.  I shouldn’t have succeeded at the audition.  I shouldn’t have been hired on that show, but in the end it was perfect for me.  There are so many of these stories in my life where it just doesn’t make sense, but God knows what he’s doing.  I’m going to keep saying “sure” and with courage and some lucky breaks, we will see where the next adventure takes me.

(Note: This happened years ago, but I was just reminded of it and it was exactly what I needed today.)

The Very First Audition - Part 5

(Part 1 - click here)

(Part 2 - click here)

(Part 3 - click here)

(Part 4 - click here)

Day 5

It was day two of my very first audition at Disneyland.  On the first day I showed up so naive, so confident.  This time, I was so different.  First of all, my brother drove me, so I had some support.  Second, I had a backpack with snacks and water.  But more importantly, I arrived so grateful.  It was such a small group of women compared to the hundreds and hundreds of women who were there the day before.  Earlier in the day, my friend Randy suggested this audition would be easier because I was up against fewer women.  The truth is that while there were less women, I knew it was the best of them, and that was so intimidating.

We got to the rehearsal hall and I immediately noticed two differences. First, instead of having us sit on the hard wooden floor, they had set up a few rows of white folding chairs on the side.  Second, there were about 30 3x5 cards taped up on the mirror in rows of 5.  We were called to the floor and the choreographer said, “We won’t be teaching or reviewing tonight.  You should know it, perfectly.  Let’s start with the first routine.”  They turned on the first pieces of music and with a “5…6…7…8” we were on our way.

We danced through each routine once.  I did pretty good, but we weren't being watched yet.  I prayed I would do that well when my time came.  We moved back to the white chairs and I grabbed a seat in the second row.  They started calling groups of five and whispering.  

I was never called.  Not once.

After hours of doing nothing, I slouched in my chair as I realized they had accidentally called me back and that I had spent all day practicing and hoping - dreaming of what it would be like to dance for Disney.  I was so embarrassed.  I didn’t want to be there anymore.

I grabbed my backpack, walked over to a stage manager by the exit and asked if I could leave.  I explained the situation and she said, “Hold on a second.”  She walked over to the jury and chatted with the person on the end.  They looked over to me. The person on the end looked at some notes, shrugged, nodded and then the stage manager headed back over to me.   She said, “You can leave if you would like, but I would HIGHLY suggest you stay.”  I felt so dumb. It took everything inside of me to stay.  Was she suggesting I stay just to not look like a quitter?  Whatever her reason was, I decided to stay.  I kept my backpack on and sat back down, now feeling even more ridiculous.

When finally everyone was done dancing and I still hadn’t danced a single bit.  A choreographer stood up and said, “Ok, this is how this is going to work.  If we call your number please come stand on this line.”  She gestured to a red tape line they had put on the ground.  “Then we will hand you a part.”  She gestured to the 3x5 cards.  Oh my gosh, there were only 30 spots?  Less than half of us were getting a job that night.  I just stopped listening because there was no way I was going to be in the happy half. “Ok, first, let’s see 12, 26, 34 and 254.”  Three women jumped up and got on the line. “Who are we missing?”  They looked at the three women “12. 34. 47….  254?  Is 254 here?”  Then they looked down at the application in their hand.  “Liz Hetzel?”  My head shot up in disbelief.  “Liz Hetzel?  Are you here?”  I honestly didn’t know what to do.

“Um… yes… I’m here.”  I was trying to rip off my back pack as I squeezed through the first row of chairs, catching my foot and stumbling onto the floor.  We all laughed. I bowed as I ran to the line and I got a little cheer of success.  The choreographer gave me a card, “Welcome to Disney.”  I looked down at my card.  I was shaking.  “Track 31 - Kaa. Pirate. Pinocchio.”  I had no idea what that meant and I couldn’t care less.

A couple months later, I had my orientation day.  We watched a show I had never seen before.  I was blown away by the performers, the special effects, and the music.  When it was done, the girl sitting next to me said, “Can you believe we get to do this?” I jerked my attention to her, “This is the show we are in?!”  The stage manager stood up and said, “Welcome to Fantasmic!”

The Very First Audition - Part 4

(Part 1 - click here)

(Part 2 - click here)

(Part 3 - click here)

Part 4

At my very first audition at Disney, I had made it passed two brutal cuts and found myself in a rehearsal hall where I learned a routine with a lot of angles and jumps.  After we had a pretty good grasp of the routine, they suggested that we add the feeling of being a monkey.  Before the choreography started they wanted us to improv like a monkey.  Ok…

I was trying my best, but in the middle of the routine there was a jump I had never done before.  To be honest, it is a common move, but at this point I had only been dancing for three years and I just hadn’t ever had the opportunity to do it.  I aggressively flung myself into the air not knowing if I looked confident and powerful, or just a crazy ball of spaghetti flying aimlessly through the air. 

We danced in groups of five, but this time I didn’t float off to that place I go when I’m dancing with every part of my soul.  I couldn’t get there because I had no confidence in what I was doing. I knew this was where they would realize I was a fraud. I danced as hard as I could.  I was too nervous.  I was too much of an amateur.  I felt dumb.

When we were done, a list of numbers was called.

Not me.  

“If we called your number... thank you that is all we need to see….”  

I. could. not. believe. it.

Then they called another list of numbers, not me.  That list was asked to step outside.  I watched as those women were talked to, they all smiled, cheered and then left?  What was going on?

Now there were only about 20 of us.  We learned one more routine.  This is what I would call a character routine.  If you can imagine Mickey, Minnie or a chipmunk doing it, that’s what we learned.  This felt so very different because as we learned, they watched.  They hadn't done that before.  It was hard for me to focus on the choreography because I could feel the jury’s eyes watching us the whole time.  When we got done learning, they didn’t have us do it in groups of 5. (Thank God because I honestly wasn't sure I could even remember it).  Instead they had us sit down right there in the middle of the floor.

“You are being invited to our call back tomorrow night.”  Everyone cheered. (Now I understand what happened outside.)  “It is your job to come back prepared with all the routines you learned today including this one.  Because you have a day to practice, they should be perfect.”  My heart jumped from my chest to throat.  Perfect? I’m not perfect.  I’m a small-town dancer who loves dancing, but this was just over my head.

They dismissed us and I headed home.  When I got home, I called my brother and told him all about it.  (He was the one who told me about the audition - he worked the rides.)  I told him how I couldn’t do the jump and I just didn’t know if I would go back.  He said, “You will be going back and in the morning you will come over and I will help you.”  I had no idea how he could help me, but I was going to take every bit of help I could get.

The next morning, I arrived at my brother house to find that he had found the audition music.  He put speakers in the windows pointing outside.  Put the music on a loop so I could practice as many times as I needed.  I danced out on his lawn.  Every now and then he would encouragingly yell, “Jump higher!”  I did it over and over until I could disappear to that other place.  Then I rested for a few hours before heading back to Disney.  Here we go….

(Part 5 - click here)

The Very First Audition - Part 3

(Part 1 - click here)

(Part 2 - click here)

Part 3

After I made the first cut at my very first Disney audition, we were escorted to a holding room.  I sat with the other dancers who had already danced while that huge line of women behind me had their chance to dance.  After a while, we were brought back into the rehearsal hall.  This time they collected our applications as we entered the room.  I actually said, “Sorry about that.” as I handed it to her.  She laughed.

The choreographer yelled, “Spread out the best you can.” It was crowded but we all fit.  I wiggled to the back hoping to hide.  I just wanted to have fun. We learned another basic Disney routine - a lot of skipping, waving, and energy.

This time when we were done learning, we all took a seat on the side of the room.  A group of 3 or 4 people (a show director and choreographers) were sitting at a table at the front of the room - our jury. Then, 5 numbers were called.  Those five women would dance.  They would switch places and then dance again. When they were done dancing, they would stand there in the middle of the floor as the jury whispered about them.  Then, they would be dismissed.

My turn came and I can’t tell you where I go when I dance, but I found myself there again.  I returned back to the rehearsal hall to switch places.  I danced again, floated to that other place and returned to watch them whisper about me. It is the strangest feeling to know they are sitting there whispering about you.  Sometimes they just nod in your direction and sometimes they just point.  It's bizarre.

I didn’t know what to do with my arms.  I folded my arms.  That felt wrong, so I put them by my sides.  Nope, weird.  So, I grasped my hands behind my back. I was so very fidgety, I just had no idea what to do with myself. After what seemed like an eternity, they dismissed us to sit down and I rushed quickly to my spot on the floor.

When everyone finished dancing, they called a bunch of numbers.  My number wasn’t in that list.  Well, it was fun while it lasted.  “If we called your number, thank you for coming today. That is all we will need.  If you made it this far we would really like to see you at another audition.”

Then about half of the women left.  It suddenly felt a lot emptier and I knew I couldn’t hide any longer.  There would be no more wiggling to the back of the room.  Then suddenly and surprisingly they started calling another list of numbers.  This time there it was “254”.  They must have just forgotten to call me with the cut list.  After they finished that list they said, “Ok, if your number was just called please join us in the rehearsal hall next door, if your number wasn’t called please stay here to learn a different routine.”

(Part 4 - click here)

The Very First Audition - Part 2

(To read Part 1 - click here.)

Part 2

As I followed along in a massive line of women toward my very first Disney audition, I was fascinated by the secrets backstage.  We filed past buildings full of employees working on ride vehicles and people painting props. There was a building that just did laundry. Then a warehouse filled with parade floats! I couldn’t take it in fast enough.

As we walked into the rehearsal hall, a large group of women were walking in the opposite direction toward the parking lot. A couple women were wiping away tears. I heard one woman on the phone say, “I got cut.” Already? They had already sent all those women home? This was crazy.

We stepped into the rehearsal hall. It was a big, empty room with hard wood floors, three white walls, and a mirror on the fourth wall. It had the classic rehearsal hall smell, I was home. I followed along as everyone put their backpacks and applications along the back wall and sat in a group on the floor. How did they all know what to do?

I felt so lost, but the energy in the room was incredible. The room was full of excitement, tension, fun, anticipation... It felt amazing.

A woman introduced herself. I have no idea who she was because I was so overwhelmed. She sounded like the peanuts teacher to me. After chatting for a bit, they asked us to stand and spread out. Then they taught us a very easy routine that only lasted maybe 10-15 seconds.

As we went along, I couldn’t help but get caught up in the routine. My arms swung perfectly, my feet did exactly what they were supposed to do and the smile on my face couldn’t hide my heart. This was my space.

Then the choreographer said something confusing, “Ok great. Now that you have it, please line up.” Line up? Where? Why? What?

Again, everyone somehow knew exactly what was happening. They all lined up in two lines along the side wall facing backwards. Then the choreographer started to count, “5...6...7...”. I knew when she got to “8” dancing was supposed to start, but who? Were we all going to start? Then she said “8” and the first two girls start moving from the back corner to the front corner diagonally across the floor.

Every two 8 counts another two girls would start moving across the floor. As we got to the end of the diagonal there was a choreographer who would send you to the front corner or the back corner. What did this mean?

After a few minutes it was my turn. I forced myself to ignore the choreographer standing there analyzing my every move. Instead I felt every move. I lived in every movement. I shot energy out of every limb. My face could not stop smiling. This was so me. I disappeared into that routine.

When my turn was done and I reappeared back in the rehearsal hall, the choreographer was directing me to a small group in the front corner. The women already standing in that corner smiled at me like we were already friends. When all of the women were done dancing, a Disney employee walked over to the large group in the back corner and said, “Thank you so much for coming out today. That is all we will need from you today. Please come back to another audition.” I watched as they all pick up their backpacks and headed out. But not me, now what?

(Part 3- click here.)

That Very First Audition - Part 1

Part 1

For my very first Disney audition, I pulled into the parking lot with unreasonably too much confidence. I parked, grabbed my keys and hopped out of the car.  It was a warm January morning, not a cloud in the sky. With a little skip in my step, I headed toward the backstage entrance.

Then, I froze.

There was a line of hundreds and hundreds (and hundreds) of beautiful, perfectly shaped dancers who were incredibly more prepared.  I walked in between cars and down aisle after aisle toward the end of the line. Each woman had a back pack full of who knows what.  I kept walking past girls chatting about their other auditions and previous experience. 

When I finally arrived at the back of the line, I stood there in silence - no backpack, no experience, no idea what I was doing there.  I was trying with all my might to keep my feet planted there.  Then, the girl in front of me pulled out her headshot and resume.  She turned to me and said, “I was thinking of redoing, my headshot.  Do you like yours?  Who did yours?” 

I didn’t have a headshot.  I didn’t have a resume.  What was I doing?

“I… um…”  My eyes shot from her, to her resume, to the long line, to my basic outfit, to the lonely keys in my hand, to her again.  With no explanation, I turned around ready to run when suddenly there was a woman in front of me.  She was holding a piece of paper, a sticky label and smiling.

She said, “Hi.” She started writing a number on the paper and handed it to me. “I just need you to fill this out.” Then, she wrote the same number on a sticky label, put it on my first finger.  “And put this right here.” She pointed to her Disney name tag.  For a second, I imagined my name on a Disney name tag and it gave me just enough confidence to put the sticky label on my shirt.  I was number 254 and the line had quickly grown behind me.

I looked down at the paper and the first thing they wanted was my name.  I could do that.  I sat on the warm black pavement of the parking lot.  Next, I had to fill in my phone number.  Easy.  Next was my availability.  Done.  Then my experience.  Uh oh.  I wrote down the small town studio where I danced, the company where I choreographed (which was actually just my high school dance team) and that was it.  I looked over and headshot girl had every line filled in.  Ok, now was when I was really leaving.

I stood up only to see the line was moving into the backstage area.  I wanted to see behind the scenes of Disney so much, so I followed along.  What was beyond that security gate?

A typical audition line half way through the day,
this line represents about 1/3 of the women auditioning.

(For Part 2 - click here.)