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.)

Prayer and Stuffy the Stuffed Animal

I already scanned every single boarding pass.  Everyone had settled in and it was time to close the aircraft door.  Just as I was about to reach for the door a little girl came charging down the isle and her toes stopped at the edge of the aircraft.

Where were her parents? Where were the flight attendants?

With big brown eyes looking up at me and her hands clinched in front of her, she blurts out, "I left Stuffy up where I was sitting!  CAN I PLEASE GO GET HIM BEFORE WE LAUNCH?!"

It was the cutest thing I had ever seen, but if I agreed to look for Stuffy the flight would be delayed and I would get in trouble. But how could I not?  So, without a second to waste I said "Come on!"

As we ran up the jet bridge, I got on the walkie talkie and as if we were going to war, I called out, "I need someone to check gate 12 boarding area for a stuffed animal right now!" When we got to the top of the jet bridge, I turned around and said "You have to wait right here."  The rules state she wasn't allowed to leave the jet bridge.  She said, "Ok" and purposefully planted her feet in place with a look of desperation.

I opened the door to leave the jet bridge and standing there was my coworker with Stuffy in hand!  We both gasped.  She jumped and clapped with more joy than I have felt all year.  I gave her Stuffy and said, "Quickly head back to your seat!"  She skipped down the jet bridge swinging Stuffy overhead in victory.  I couldn't help but start skipping behind her.

She turned the corner and entered the aircraft to a roar of applause holding Stuffy like a trophy over her head.

She glanced back at me as she headed to her seat and the look on her face is one of my favorite memories to date.  I closed the door quickly and, miraculously, it didn't cause a delay.

As I stood there waiting for the plane to pull back, I smiled thinking about her words.  She didn't know that the place she was sitting was called the boarding area.  She didn't know that the plane didn't "launch", it "took off".  But it was those words that convinced me to help her.  In her desperation, she didn't need the right words.  She didn't need to sound perfect.  She just needed Stuffy.

The Christian world has started doing this crazy thing where people say things like, "That person prays so powerfully."  or "I wish I could pray like that person."  But it's all hogwash.  All God wants from us is to be that little girl.  He just wants us to show up and talk to Him.  We don't need to sound perfect or have all the right words.  We don't have to overthink it or worry.  Just talk to him.  Ask for the desires of your heart.  He wants to run up the jetbridge with you and then watch your face as He does more than you can ask or imagine.

Just One Security Guard

On a warm beautiful night in Los Angeles, I stood in an alley looking at the backstage door of Jimmy Kimmel Live.  On my left was a line of crazed fans waiting to meet my favorite band, Jimmy Eat World, and in front of me was one round security guard. I knew I had to get by him, but how?

Wait, let's back up.

I arrived to Jimmy Kimmel Live with one goal, find out where Jimmy Eat World would be playing a secret show later that night.  Throughout the night I asked every person about the secret show; the stage hands, the band photographer, the production assistants.  Every single person told me the same thing - there was no secret show that night.  But I KNEW there was.  It was happening and no amount of charm convinced them to let me in on the classified info.

My friend Amanda and I watched Jimmy Kimmel Live and when it was done we were filed us out through an alley.  I shuffled my feet slowly - full of disappointment.  Then it hit me.  You know who would tell me about the show?  The band.  I know that meeting the band seems more impossible than finding out about a secret show, but I've never been a person to back down from the impossible.

Because I used to work at The Tonight Show, I knew exactly how the backstage of a late night show worked.  I knew the band was just beyond that backstage entrance and I knew I could get to them.  I was just one security guard away.

I stopped for a moment to decide if I would try to flirt with the security guard to get in, or just act like I was too important to talk to him. A woman from the line of fans distracted the security guard and I knew I had a 3 second window to make this happen.  Without hesitation I commanded Amanda, "Don't stop walking."  I took off with purpose through that backstage entrance like I owned the place.  The security guard yells. "Hey, wait!"  We kept walking and I yelled back with a smile, "It's ok, I'm with the people who are going to be so we can just...."  My total gibberish trailed off as we got far enough away from him that I knew he couldn't catch us. He wouldn't chase us because the backstage door can't be left unattended.  Now, just in case he used the radio to call another security guard, we had to blend in right now.

Trying to slow my heart, I looked around at all the little groups of Hollywood types chatting.  I had to find who ever looked important immediately. There was the bass player chatting with a couple people.  I dragged Amanda over to them and we stood there like we were part of the conversation. A security guard wasn't going to bug us while talking to the band.

After we chatted for a bit, the lead singer came over. (That made us look even more legit.) We have a quick conversation about nothing and before they got bored of us I said, "Hey, where are you playing next?"  The bass player casually said, "Phoenix, AZ."  Then I lowered my voice, got a little closer and said, "No, where are you playing NEXT."  He contemplated his next move.  He looked at me.  He looked at Amanda.  Then he looked over to his left and yelled, "Hey Sam, where are we playing next?"  Sam yelled back "Phoenix." Then he yelled back "No, where are we playing NEXT?"  This clearly grabbed Sam's attention because he instantly left his conversation to join us.  He leaned in to me and whispers "650 Schrader Blvd."

I was speechless. My crazy plan actually worked.

The bass player says, "Will we see you over there?"

"Absolutely."

A security guard was eyeing us, so we said a quick goodbye and we got out of there fast.  We drove over to the small little venue where the huge bouncer wouldn't let us in.  Obviously, our name wasn't on this list.  Now what?

Because I had toured with a rock band in the past, I knew the important people usually hung out in the alley.   Sure enough, behind the venue we found a clump of people.  There was only one guy in a suit.  I walked directly up to Mr. Suit and said, "The guys just told us to come over here, but the bouncer won't let us in. Who can get us in?"  To my surprise, Mr. Suit didn't say anything but instead a scruffy looking dude to my left chimed in. "The band told you to come here?"

"Yah."

"They didn't tell me."

Mind racing... with a smile I said, "Well, we can just wait here until they get here to tell you."

And with that, he said, "Just tell the bouncer that Davis said you could go in."

I slyly reached over and squeezed Amanda's arm. 

After getting passed the bouncer, Amanda and I entered the smallest club ever.  About 30 minutes later, the band took the stage.  Halfway through the show, the bass player saw me and I waved.  He said "You made it!"  He didn't say it into a microphone or yell, he just said it because I was only like 10 feet away from him.  With a shrug and a huge smile I said, "Sure did!"  They played through the album Futures and then played a couple more bonus songs.

It was the best concert experience of my life.

I try to remember this night when my goals aren't so close and immediate. Life goals are further away.  It can feel impossible and I just want to give up.  But the truth is that there is always another option.  Your life experiences and your courage will get you to your goals if you just keep going. 

The Pizza Slicer

This is how First Rate Single Life works these days.

I learn Lady Gaga choreography because there is no one to get annoyed at the tiny house bobbing around.

I listen to ridiculous music in the car because no one has to hear me screech those high notes.

I learn how to cook because no one has to taste how bad it is, but then one day I will be making a pizza. And I realize that I don't know how to take it out of the oven.  No big deal, I just ask Facebook.  And in that conversation someone mentions cutting it.  Oh God, how do I cut it? I don't have a pizza cutter.

So, I dive into the drawer to find a large knife only to discover that I have a pizza cutter!  I'm so genuinely excited, I post a pic that is just filled with real joy.

I cut my pizza, sit down and enjoy it.

While reviewing the Facebook post I think, "Seriously though, how did I get a pizza cutter?"  And then it hits me.  He put it there.  He bought it. He was ready for things, I'm not.  He made life easier. Now life's just a little harder and I don't even know how to get a freakin pizza out of an oven.

Then I cry.

And I'll probably cry a couple more times.  Then I will sleep and wake up in the morning, dance a little bit and cook a little bit and heal a little bit.  And everyday will be a little easier.

 

Zoom Terror

You may not know that I used to be a singer. I toured the country with a Christian singing group. I used to have a pretty good range. I used to be a good size fish in a tiny little pond, but that was too many years ago to admit. Just like every muscle in your body if you don't use it, you lose it. So recently, I have become a very successful drivers seat singer.

However, in this pandemic I have decided to find ways to grow. Yesterday there was a zoom class offered to work on vocal technique. I turned off my mic. I turned off the camera and away we go. (You guys, zoom classes are so amazing right now because you can be AWFUL and no one will ever know.)

 As the class began, we started doing techniques and the teacher had everyone muted, but was giving correction on what she saw. "Relax your shoulders. Lower your jaw." I thought, "Well, i can do that." So, I turned my camera on. I got a correction and I was so happy to be improving.

 Then, terror.

 She says "Liz Hetzel, let's hear you." You guys. Why she picked me out of all those people, why I had to sing, what made me stand out, I have no idea. But I decided this is my chance to have an amazing vocal teacher teach me. So I went for it. I turned on my mic and after every time I sang, she gave a little lecture to everyone on something I was doing wrong.

We moved up the scale and it got higher and higher. Finally, we were at the point where I knew my voice was going to crack, so when she moved up to the next note I said, "Oh, still me?" and she said "Yah go for it." (Hint not taken.) My voice cracked. My shoulder got tense. My neck was a mess. I was so embarrassed, but I got done and she used my failure to encourage everyone to relax and gave them great advice from my ridiculousness.

She moved up another note. She could see the panic on my face and she says to me "Let's bring it on home." I do the last little bit and I just gave up and sounded horrible. I decided to just get through this because it would be over soon.

 Sure enough, just after that, the class was concluded. I was so relieved the embarrassment was over. The woman hosting the event comes back on and thanks us all for being there. Then the instructor says to the host, "Feel free to post this on YouTube so everyone one can rewatch it."

Oh. No.

Well, now my awful singing will be on YouTube for all the world to see. All my litle mistakes and flaws out there in the cyber universe.

But you know what? I'm not dead. If anything I'm stronger. Maybe seeing someone who doesn't have the best voice sing with courage will inspire someone else who has a better voice. Maybe the corrections she gave after I sang was exactly what someone needed to make that little improvement. Maybe it's all not as bad as I feel like it is.

If there is something you love (maybe you aren't good at it) and have never taken a class, go find it online or on zoom right now. Take advantage of this pandemic and all the free classes. Now's your time! (Maybe just leave your camera and mic off. Hahaha.)

That Stupid Cavalcade

A Disneyland cavalcade changed my life.  (Click here to watch it.)

In 2005, after years of successfully dancing at Disneyland, I was unexpectedly not cast in any of the upcoming parades.  So I begged for a job.  Any job.  Disney came back and said that they could use me as a lead for a small cavalcade.   A lead is a person who walks along the parade.  They make sure the music runs correctly, the guests stay out of the street and ensures the performers are safe.  I wasn't going to be picky, I was just so thankful for any job. 

It was torture.

As I took my small steps down Main Street USA, pacing the parade, I would look up and watch the girls twirling in their skirts, jumping into the arms of their dance partners, and doing what they loved.  My ugly khakis and blue polo shirt made me look plump. The large bulky headset I wore had an antenna on both sides of my head making me look like some kind of bizarre insect. The headset was connected to a controller that hung on my belt making my pants sag a bit adding to the awkward.

But everyday I showed up and walked down that route, watching my dreams from the sidelines.

One day, the choreographer was doing a rehearsal backstage.  I was in charge of the DVD player. As the dancers rehearsed, they were struggling because a person was missing. The choreographer looked over and said, "Liz, jump in."  I looked at him and said "Oh, I'm not in this parade."  He looked back at me and said, "Don't make me call you Karen."  (My first name is Karen and like a loving family, it's not good when they use your whole name.)

He knew the dancer I was.  He knew that I could learn anything from watching.  He knew I had watched the routine a million times from the sidelines.  So, I took my headphones from my head and put them around my neck and jumped in.  As I danced along,  the headset controller on my belt kept knocking around.  So, mid dance, I ripped off the headset and controller, and launched them to the side.  I was so light, so free.  I danced with my whole soul.  This is what I was made for.

I image that you are thinking that I was then cast in that cavalcade.  I wasn't.

I just walked next to that cavalcade for months, trying to get into the parades that were in the rehearsal process, but I got no where.

That rehearsal taught me that I would never be satisfied walking alongside my dreams, so one day I auditioned for a role I had always dreamt of doing.  At the beginning of the audition they announced that women who are currently cast in the upcoming parade would not be allowed to audition.  A large pack of disappointed women streamed out of the room. (I couldn't believe how thankful I was for that stupid cavalcade.)  I auditioned for the role of a lifetime.  I got it.  I'm still doing it today.*

There are times in your life when you just have to sit on the sidelines and put in the work.  It's not always perfect.  You aren't always doing what you're made for, but there is something coming.  If you keep trying, if you keeping being willing to be rejected, if you keep putting in the work, you will end up in the perfect place.

*Cue me crying every time I read that because I can't believe how lucky I am.

Crying On The Way Home From LAX

I have cried three times leaving work at LAX, and I have only worked there for seven days.

The first cry was day one when I was overwhelmed, but the other two cries were very different.

Cry number two happened on day four. A woman came up to check in and was bravely holding her tears back with every ounce of courage she had. She was checking in her dad and grandfather. They both needed a lot of assistance. I could tell she didn't have the strength.

Finally, a moment of clarity came when she said, "I have one more question." and she stood there trying to find the words, but instead just stood there. Slowly she continued, "My brother died unexpectedly..." Her next words burst out along with her tears, "My father is carrying my brother's ashes, is that ok?" And she cried and cried.

I put my hand on her arm as she cried. I tried with everything inside of me not to cry with her, to stay professional. "It's fine. Let me help you."  I got a wheelchair for her grandfather; and noted that her dad was hard of hearing. I let her escort the ashes as far as she could. As I did these things she calmed. I'm not sure anyone had been taking care of her.

She composed herself, thanked me sincerely and walked away. I turned around and pulled the tears in my eyes back into my head and pulled all my courage together to help the next person.

Cry number three was yesterday. I was working at the self check in kiosks and an older woman walked through the door. She stopped suddenly and gasped as she covered her mouth. I thought maybe she had forgotten her license or suddenly remembered she was in the wrong airport, so I walked up with a smile, "Everything ok?" She stood with her hand on her mouth shaking her head quickly.

I took the smile off my face, "What's going on?"

She moved her hand to her heart and whispered, "My daughter has cancer and has just dropped me off. I wonder if I will see her again." And she pursed her lips together not wanting to cry. I put one hand under one of her arms and put my hand her back and helped her away from the door. She told me of her daughters chemo and the things she had gone through.  She told me how hard it was to watch her go down hill and I listened.  Finally, after she had calmed down, she pulled out a piece of paper and said, "I think my daughter already checked me in."

I said, "Let's take a look." Surprising myself, my voice cracked as I said it. The woman saw my kindness and said, "What is your name?" and I said, "Liz."  She started crying. "That is my granddaughter's name. I think that is a good sign."

I'm glad that even my name can help someone feel a little stronger.  One thing that I never expected with this job was being a source of comfort.  I was sure people would disrespectfully rushed by.  I expected people to yell at me when I couldn't let them on the flight, but I never expected people to cry; to need me to more than just to check them in.

I sometimes wonder if I will get callused to it.  I sure hope not.

The dark or the light?

There is a dark spot and a light spot in every situation.

Today I find myself sitting calmly at a coffee shop, sipping a chai latte and slowly eating a cheese roll.  And it is wonderful.

This is happening because baseball season ended a couple days ago and I will no longer have to work 14 hour days for a week a time.  I get to go to cross country meets and see friends.  I get to work on my house and build a new apartment.  (Yes, you heard me. I'm building myself an apartment with my own two hands. More to come.)

Now that all sounds really wonderful, but that's because that's how I choose to look at it.

It could be this instead:

Today I find myself sitting at a coffee shop, drinking a chai wondering where my life is going.  Baseball season has ended and I don't get to see my work friends for another six months and the paychecks will be missing.  The lack of community and money brings stress that sits in the back of my head and I wonder, "What am I going to do with my life?"

Both of these are true, but which one do I choose to focus on? The first one of course because I'm Liz Hetzel, it's what I do.  But honestly, it's harder somedays than others. Sometimes I just need to sit in the stress and say "WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"  But other times, I just need to remember that there is light and dark in every situation.  I choose the light.

What's Love Got To Do With It?

The song "What's Love Got To Do With It" never made sense to me. I always thought the Beatles knew what they were talking about when they sang "All You Need Is Love."

I was wrong.

I recently went through a break up that was full of love. We both love each other, we both wanted to make it work, but ultimately our futures weren't lining up and we had to make the logical decision to end it.

The day we broke up I went on a hike. Exercise always makes me feel better. I mindlessly chose a hike and headed out bravely.  Not far in I came across this big gorgeous open field of grass where I had imagined we would get married. A little piece of me broke.

I sat down on the ground and cried hoping to collect that little part of me that broke, but alas nothing was going to fix the shattered dreams.  So, I got up off the ground, leaving that little broken piece behind, and hiked on.

This has been the repeated pattern ever since we broke up. There are so many shattered dreams that I see everywhere. The ring we had picked out sitting alone in the cupboard. The tiny house we had worked on together that we would never live in. The National Parks checklist that would never be complete.

With every little piece of me that breaks, I have to continue on. I logically know that as time goes by I will slowly heal. But today it hurts and that's okay.

There are times when you just have to get through it.  You have to let little parts of you break away so that they can be filled with other things.

The night after our break up, I went to my folks house and my dad had set up his telescope. It was a warm summer night. We looked at Saturn and Jupiter and it was fantastic. He just let me be sad and weepy. He let me just be me. A little part of me was filled.

One night I had to go to work and I knew I would have to hear my ex's voice over the walkie talkie.  I told a fellow co-worker that it was going to be awful hearing his voice. When he came on the walkie talkie, she locked eyes with me made fists and whispered "You got this." I honestly would have lost it, but she kept me strong.

It takes a village.  Making it through life can be hard, but people around you will save you.

That big gorgeous open field.

Surrounded by Incredible

I was standing in a kitchen with about 30 other people.  We were making a friendship salad.  Everyone brought one ingredient and then we all threw it together in this huge bowl. It was tossed and eaten.  Having a salad with over 30 ingredients is incredibly delicious.

Even more delicious than the salad were the people standing around the kitchen.  It was 30 people all in different stages of life, different religions, different genders, different sexual orientations.  Some had kids, some had spouses, some were widows, and some were single.

One thing they all had in common was that they are beautiful. Literally looking around the room, they each wore something classy and stylish. But it was even worse than that, they were beautiful inside and out. Everyone is clever and well spoken. You would think that being in a room with such wonderful humans would be intimidating and overwhelming, but they are all kind and approachable.  I honestly stood there confused how I got the privilege of being in this room.

I got there by doing one of the toughest interviews in my life which ended with my name being called in front of the Disneyland castle.  We were all Disneyland Ambassadors.  The women and men in that room were the resort representatives from 1967 - today.

We sat around and told stories that will never be told outside of that circle. We talked of embarrassing and overwhelming things we had to go through.  We talked about our worst interviews and where we failed.  I had a couple stories to tell that weren't so bad.  My stories are more funny.

Like, I was once walking out of the castle with Mickey to a stage in front of hundreds people.  I don't even remember what the event was now (there were so many). But as I walked over the draw bridge, my heel got stuck in between two boards and I walked right out of my shoe.

I had one second to decide; keep walking or stop and go get it.  Stand on stage with one shoe or jerk everything to a stop. I stopped which made Mickey look back at me.  I just said "I lost my shoe."  We walked back and Mickey knelt down as I slid my shoe on.  It was a perfect Cinderella moment and I'm not sure anyone else even remembers it.

But to me, every time I walk over that draw bridge I laugh. My life is weirdly phenomenal. It was such an amazing experience to represent the Resort and such a privilege to be a part of that group of unbelievably remarkable men and women. I hope that you find yourself surrounded by wonderful people that encourage you to be a better person.

I always thought it was cute when we both wore red.

Where Is The Blue Sky?

I was hopping from boulder to boulder trying to keep my feet out of the stream rushing below me.  It was a beautiful hike, beautiful weather and a beautiful life.

One of the reason I really liked the weather was because it was warm but over cast. I could wear just a t-shirt and a light button up.  Perfect.  I knew there wouldn't see blue skies today and that was fine.

As I got to the top of the hike, a strong wind blew through and just for a second there it was, blue sky.  As fast as it was there, it was gone.  The wind continued to blow, pushing the clouds around.  In another couple minutes the clouds parted again and there it was again, that beautiful blue sky that caught my eye and filled my heart.

Those clouds felt a lot like my life for the last year.  The clouds had moved in and settled over me and my life.  It felt like it was always going to be like that, but every now and then, the clouds would part and I would see the joy I remembered before my injury; the fun loving girl I was before fear entered my life.

I see the blue skies more often than not these days, but the one thing that really hit me was that the blue sky is always sitting back there waiting for the clouds to part and be seen. My joy is always sitting back there waiting for me.

The 12-year-old Compliment (Sort-of)

Today I waded into the ocean; flippers on my feet, boogie board in hand, and a smile plastered on my face.  Just getting into the water is a triumph.  I pushed myself into the water and started kicking.   I giggled, my body is getting back to normal.  I wave came and pushed me.  Colin grabbed me from flipping over.  We laughed.

A 12 year old girl, floated by on her surfboard.  A big smile on her face, she said, "I wish MY mom would come out in the water with me."  My heart sank.  Colin turned around and his grey hair caught her by surprise, "...or dad."

I know that's what she actually said, but what I heard was "Hey, clumsy chubby white lady. You're old and your boyfriend looks young enough to be your son."  I just wanted to sink into the water and let it pull me to shore, so I could crawl to the car and cry.

But I stopped.  I stopped beating myself up.  I stopped allowing lies to conquer my brain.  I stopped letting a 12 year old interfere with my greatness.  The truth is she was totally complimenting me.  She was telling me that it was fantastic that I was out in the water.  She loved that I was still having fun (at my real old age).  She thought my boyfriend was gorgeous. (Well, that's what I heard.)

I wish I could tell you that this is what happens every time I'm hurt by someone.  I wish I could tell you that I'm the queen of turning hurtful things into compliments, but I'm not.  But I am good at slowly learning and changing my thoughts.  And soon, purposeful choices of how to think about myself will be easier and soon it will just be a habit.  But until then, I will try my hardest to remember that I'm awesome and the lies are just that, lies.

At Least It's Not Hell

The other day I was resting my head on Colin's shoulder, tucked into the curve in his neck and I was thinking about how Dinsey animators are just amazing. The things they do are surprising and wonderful. I found myself wishing I could do anything half as good as those animators.

I casually whispered, "I wish I was good at something." I unexpectedly began to cry. I honestly wasn't even feeling sad when thought it, but as the words came out of my mouth I realized very suddenly how very sad and confused I am about where I am in life right now.

I'm still writing but I'm sure it can't be published. (Side note: Can some one get sued for writing about behind the scenes Disney?  Asking for a friend.) My editing skills haven't kept up with the current level of amazing editors. My dancing is... well, most of my dancing was been temporarily removed with my disc fragments.

So, what do you do when you are a girl with a whole lot of half talents?

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what they call the desert. I'm not in agony. I'm not in hell. I'm just in a dry, flat part of life. I'm not really sure if there is any water around and I'm getting pretty tired.

I really wanted to end this blog post there.  In the reality of life, but the other talent I have is optimism. It refuses to give up on me. So I guess if I was to say one last thing, it's that I still have a bottle of water with me. I believe I have a purpose. I believe in a higher power. I believe that there is a reason I walk this earth. And there is even a reason I'm in this desert.

So, I will keep walking. Looking for the next turn that will bring me to my next adventure.

(NOTE: This was written a few weeks ago and life has seemed to turn a corner.  But reading back on this I realize a lot of people probably feel like they are in this place.  Just don't stop walking because the only way to get some place new is to keep going.)