So, the auditions for the silly little pseudo-reality show American Idol were held this weekend in New York City. I heard about the auditions about a month ago, and I'd been flip flopping in my mind over whether or not I was going to do it.

I officially made up my mind last night at about 11:00 PM. By midnight I was packed up and on a subway headed towards the Jacob Javits centre, where this mass-orgy of wannabes were waiting. The line-up officially began yesterday at noon, but since I had both work and a Tori Amos concert (which, by the way, was the best concert I've ever seen her in) taking up my time last night, I was not going to stand outside in the heat for days. The twenty-something hours I was prepared to donate to the Fox network were the extent of my enthusiasm.

It turns out that this was probably why I didn't get to audition for Simon and the strange Paula Abdul. I got there by 12:30 AM, and the line stretched from the front entrance, all around the block, up towards the West Side Highway, and then looping back around towards the back entrance. It was a mess.

I befriended the girl next to me on my left, as well as the pair of black drag queens on my right. It was an interesting night, because they both got there right before and after I did. And I really have to say, I'm appalled at the lack of organization that was displayed. There were no signs directing people where to go, not even any visible staff members on hand to answer questions. It was ridiculous. So I waited from about 12:30 AM to 5 AM, and didn't move forward at all. Though, according to the website, auditions weren't going to start until Monday at 8:00 AM, that apparently wasn't the case, because those people who were (stupid) dedicated enough to be waiting since noon, Saturday managed to get a set of wristbands that would allow them to actually audition for Simon and crew on Monday. I was a smidge pissed, but after waiting five hours for the stupid thing my piss-offed-ness devolved into just plain joy at the concept of getting to sleep, instead of staying up all night.

Really, by then, the prospect of bed outweighed any sudden stardom.

But C.S. and I went to the Tori Amos concert. It was his birthday present and he wanted me to go with him. The concert was amazing. Ben Folds (what happened to the Five? I thought it was a band….) opened, and he kicked ass hard. It was a good weekend, albeit strange.

Ah well. If I really feel like it, next year I'll go stand my ass out on the corner again like a moron, this time right when they begin holding the lineup. Somehow, however, I don't think I'm really gonna give a shit by then.

Entry last modified: January 4, 2007 at 8:02 pm.

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