I have an idea. Every time I feel a twinge of jealousy on the art and career front, I am going to voice it. This is purely for my own benefit, but also to take a mainly useless emotion and make it constructive.
No, I don’t need to tell you that I nearly had to stop myself from stealing Lydia’s sandwich at rehearsal last night. Sure I coveted it, but whether or not I ate that sandwich doesn’t really matter in the long run (unless, of course, you are my ass. If you are, you are welcome. I did not steal the sandwich.) But when I read about someone being cast as something or some theatre doing a project I desperately want to be a part of, I need to say it out loud. It tames the green-eyed monster and puts me in a position to act.
For example, yes I sort of loathe Kristin Chenoweth. Partially that’s because I think her voice has started a trend of the “Prepubescent Broadway Sound” I so desperately wish would go away. BUT I also sort of loathe Kristin Chenoweth because Jesus Christ would I love her career. There I said it. Now I’m free to admit that when she did an armpit fart during a presentation at the 2008 Tony’s, I thought it was an inspired moment of genius and a nice jab at whoever decided to writes such terrible dialogue for her.
Ah. That feels better. So rather than damn the green-eyed monster, I take it into my employ. I shall name it. Perhaps Kristin. Kristin my green-eyed monster.