An American Idol Odyssey Part 1
0 Comments Published by ginny on Monday, August 25, 2003 at 2:20 AM.
Day 1, Sunday:
I started out on the road at about four in the afternoon, which gave me plenty of time to re-check my enormously detailed packing list one more time. And one more time after that. And again. I seriously way over-prepared for this trip, because when I’m nervous, that’s what I do.
And was I nervous? Oh, yes. I mean, me, heading down to a strange city all by myself to camp out for three nights and then audition for a reality show? I’d never in a million years have believed I would really do it. And yet, somehow, here I was, doing it. Actually doing this weird, crazy thing. I kind of still can’t believe it.
But anyway, after I was finally sure that I’d packed everything I could possibly need (and believe me, I packed everything. About three times as much of everything as I needed), I started out on the road.
The first part of the journey, as planned, was the five hours between Roanoke and Greenville, South Carolina. I’d decided that the best way to get down to Atlanta, even though it’s only an 8-hour drive, would be to take it in two days – that way, instead of having to drive through the night in order to arrive in Atlanta by 9 a.m. (which is what I wanted to do, since the web said we couldn’t line up any earlier than 12 noon), I could leave Greenville at a reasonable time and do it.
The drive was completely uneventful, except that I found myself feeling increasingly ill in a weird, mystery-ailment kind of way. Mystery stomach-ailment, I should clarify, as opposed to the mystery voice-robbing-ailment I had last week, and which I could still feel (horrifyingly) clinging to my vocal chords just a little. My mother maintains that mystery-ailment was just nerves, but really, I never feel nauseated when I’m nervous. I have to pee when I’m nervous. It’s different.
Anyway, by the time I reached Greenville at 9 p.m., I felt pretty bad, so I went directly to bed. Which was smart, anyway, since I wanted to leave by six the next morning. I didn’t get a very good night’s sleep, what with feeling kind of awful and being unable to dismiss from my mind images of Simon Cowell saying “you’re fat, you sing like Ethel Merman, and you can’t dance. Go home!”
Nonetheless, I did sleep, dreamed of going window-treatment shopping with Ruben Studdard, and woke up in time to embark upon...
I started out on the road at about four in the afternoon, which gave me plenty of time to re-check my enormously detailed packing list one more time. And one more time after that. And again. I seriously way over-prepared for this trip, because when I’m nervous, that’s what I do.
And was I nervous? Oh, yes. I mean, me, heading down to a strange city all by myself to camp out for three nights and then audition for a reality show? I’d never in a million years have believed I would really do it. And yet, somehow, here I was, doing it. Actually doing this weird, crazy thing. I kind of still can’t believe it.
But anyway, after I was finally sure that I’d packed everything I could possibly need (and believe me, I packed everything. About three times as much of everything as I needed), I started out on the road.
The first part of the journey, as planned, was the five hours between Roanoke and Greenville, South Carolina. I’d decided that the best way to get down to Atlanta, even though it’s only an 8-hour drive, would be to take it in two days – that way, instead of having to drive through the night in order to arrive in Atlanta by 9 a.m. (which is what I wanted to do, since the web said we couldn’t line up any earlier than 12 noon), I could leave Greenville at a reasonable time and do it.
The drive was completely uneventful, except that I found myself feeling increasingly ill in a weird, mystery-ailment kind of way. Mystery stomach-ailment, I should clarify, as opposed to the mystery voice-robbing-ailment I had last week, and which I could still feel (horrifyingly) clinging to my vocal chords just a little. My mother maintains that mystery-ailment was just nerves, but really, I never feel nauseated when I’m nervous. I have to pee when I’m nervous. It’s different.
Anyway, by the time I reached Greenville at 9 p.m., I felt pretty bad, so I went directly to bed. Which was smart, anyway, since I wanted to leave by six the next morning. I didn’t get a very good night’s sleep, what with feeling kind of awful and being unable to dismiss from my mind images of Simon Cowell saying “you’re fat, you sing like Ethel Merman, and you can’t dance. Go home!”
Nonetheless, I did sleep, dreamed of going window-treatment shopping with Ruben Studdard, and woke up in time to embark upon...
Labels: american idol, celebrity, trips, tv
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