Post Punk Kitchen

Some friends convinced me to join in an air band rendition of ZZ Top’s “She’s got legs” in a high school talent show. The guys had fake beards. I was a “dancer”. I don’t have legs and I can’t dance. I hung out behind the drummer (who was playing on a phony drum set) so nobody would see me. We didn’t even get an honourable mention.

Oops, I’m not anonymous, I’m at work.

Some friends and I decided to choreograph and perform a dance to a mix tape. I think we were more in love with the idea of being on stage than actually being on stage. Needless to say, there was some improvised dancing involved when I forgot my moves…

You didn’t have legs?

oh this contest is just made for me. when i was in second & third grades (1988 & 1989) and living in somers point, new jersey- a few friends and i dressed in acid washed jeans & jean jackets, big hairsprayed hair, bright blue glittery eyeshadow for our talent shows. One year we did Tiffany’s I think we’re alone now. The other we did Debbie Gibson’s Electric Youth. Both years, same outfits and makeup, same EXACT dancing, same throwing of denim jackets. One year we also stalked and swooned over the boys that were doing a guns & roses song.

Our entire 6th grade class (Catholic school, mind you) decided to do a choreographed rendition of “Pray” by MC Hammer. You know, the one where the lyrics go,

“We got to pray
Just to make it today
That’s word,we pray”

My teacher, bless her soul for being such a good sport, decided to wear the Gold Lam? “Hammer” pants… and instead of learning the lyrics, she just said, “watermelon, peas, and carrots” over, and over, and over again, not realizing that the microphone would be on.

She slipped on the bottom of the pants, and fell.

Needless to say, we didn’t finish the skit. Someone found the pants in the Dumpster, and ran them up the flagpole.

We lost, but it was really like winning… 16 years later, I still remember this.

Not that I know how to use.

I was almost in a play as an actor in a small child but I got replaced before it started for during a rehearsal waving to my mom under the curtain before the show.

This was like second grade or something level youngin.

Some teachers are bastards.

I was a quiet person in the 5th grade, so instead of giving me a part in the class play, my teacher assigned me to be in charge of the curtains. I was sad because I dodn’t get to dress up like the other kids.

not really a talent show but I lost. I never got into talent shows. I bought a book and won one already anyway

One time I was warming up for a dance competition and I kicked myself in the face. I know that’s not a talent show, but it happened in front of people, and I think it’s a story that people can get a laugh out of, so I thought I’d share.

When I was in third grade, my friend Cheryl and I sang Delta Dawn in a talent show. Our microphone didn’t work so they brought us another one while we were singing and Cheryl wouldn’t put it anywhere near my mouth so all the audience could hear was her! Wahhhh! I’ve never gotten over it, as I cannot sing anymore – my life of debauchery (before I reformed) ruined my voice.

I entered a school poetry contest in 5th grade, and not really knowing any poems, I recited “Ant Rap” by Adam and the Ants. I had Adam Ant makeup on, and I think I sorta danced during my recital. Somehow I convinced 2 classmates to play “anarchists” during the part of the “rap” that said: “So tired of anarchists looking at me, Don?t need their credibility -”destroy,” they say, “defy! condemn!” -As long as you don?t destroy them”.
I remember making a banner for them that I tore in half (but I don’t remember what it said). I can’t remember how this went over with the teachers either, but the other students did stuff by Robert Frost and TS Eliot, etc… Needless to say I lost. I lost again the following two years reciting “the Raven” and “The Bells” by EA Poe.

mike, were you drunk?

i think freckle foot’s is the funniest so far.

In fifth grade we had a talent show and I was going to perform a gymnastics routine, like a floor routine in the olympics. I was actually pretty good at that stuff and felt quite confident even though I’m not really one for being the center of attention. Well, before the show, some boys in my class were teasing me, saying I looked like a football player in my leggings. I was a gymnast, I had big legs!! I cried, but pulled myself together until at one point in my routine one of the boys yelled “touchdown!”. I just started crying and walked off the stage.

drunk? in 5th grade?? I didn’t even smoke pot till 6th!

I was a very, very shy girl back in junior high. Trying my hardest to break out of my shell, I decided I would actually participate in the spring talent show. It had always been my aspiration to be a rock goddess, so I decided to do a performance of Garbage’s ‘Stupid Girl’.

I let my hair out, wore a cut-off shit (this was a catholic school, mind you… ::shuddering::) and went up onstage. I was too nervous to go alone, so at the last minute, I grabbed two of my friends to dance around behind me. They apparently weren’t very familiar with the song, as they looked lost and confused the whole time. Someone threw them some pom poms to keep their hands busy.

I tried to look fierce and like I meant business, but the whole time, my body was shaking like a leaf. Try looking sexy while you trip over nothing. It’s not fun. In my nervousness I forgot some of the words and my voice cracked about 60% of the song (this was prior to any much-needed voice lessons).

A faculty member recorded the entire thing. Luckily, I never had to see it. I can imagine what it looks like: a girl trying too hard to look provocative as she stumbles and stutters her way around the stage with two lost girls in the background, waving pom poms and laughing uncontrollably at their own awkwardness.

I was a junior in high school and I entered the talent show with my crazy violin skillz.

No really, I’d been playing for 10 years and thought it was about time to get something out of it. It was a really good solo, I practiced my butt off, and it went really well… but the prizes all went to the popular kids. All they did was sing.

I swear I’m not still bitter!!!

(Not a talent show story, but a dance recital story). When I was in middle school, I was forced to take dance lessons. I grew up in the south and the entire class of girls were beauty pageant queens. They were all really good dancers, pretty and social and I was none of those things. During the weeks leading up to the recital, the studio would invite parents to come in and watch the group perform. They were actual mailed invitations, which I never recieved. They never acknowledged the fact that I was left out and I didnt really mind either, due to the fact that I was a terrible dancer.

The day of the recital, I was very nervous and really regretted that my used and worn ballet slippers looked really bad next to everyone else’s gleaming white “jazz” shoes. I was quite thankful that even though I was the shortest person in the class, they had placed me in the back corner of the stage that was conveniently dark, because when I kicked my leg up during the recital, I fell over and very ungracefully completed the rest of the recital. My dancing career was over!

When I was in 7th grade I decided to join a newly formed bell choir. hey, who can resist the pleasant “ping” of a hand-held bell?
I’ve never been too musically inclined and often at the begining of practices I’d have to ask someone to help me identify the bell (a D note) I was supposed to have.
When the time of our performance came ’round, (it was part of this annual winter concert thing) the chapel was packed with 400+ students and parents. there were people sitting in the aisle and standing in the back. everyone around me was a little stressed, so I was hessitant to ask someone to help me confirm my bell.
We start the song, Puff the Magic Dragon, and I get around to giving my first “ping.” It sounds a little off. I give my bell a closer look and realize that my thumb had been covering a little symbol that specified it as a D sharp. wipe on look of shock and horror across my young and innocent face.
oh shiitake!
my note comes ’round again and regretably, I play the note. Now most everyone has realized that there’s something wrong, by which i mean that I’VE done something wrong and I can hear many snickers and murmurings in the audiance.
The song goes on and I can hear the need for my note approaching. Everyone is glaring at me, wondering what I’m going to do with my mistake. I figure, “what the fork,” and play it high and loud with pride. With that, the entire audiance broke down with laughter. Our conductor stopped Peter, Paul and Mary’s song and dismissed me to get the correct one. I was sure which one to grab this time.
I don’t know if that was a losing or winning story. it was certainly a long one.

Our school principal retired when I was in grade 5 and every class had to participate in a talent show send off, with each act being an ostensible tribute to his legacy. Our class decided to write a rap in rhyming verse (deftly combining the edginess of 1990 with our 10 year old musical sensibilities) about him. It was the teacher?s aide?s idea that we should all dress in overalls with one strap unbuttoned and include freestyle amateur beatboxing in the routine (which just involved a lot of spitting into our cupped palms, possibly punching the air was involved, too). The principal was moved to tears by our nascent hip hop ode to his administrative prowess (the verse wherein we mentioned his combover was wisely excised before the curtain went up), although his wheelchair-bound elderly mother (with whom he lived along with two giant pet pythons), who was seated in the front row, seemed visibly confused.

There were no winners that day.

In seventh grade I was going to do a tap dance with two friends, we had the dance all set when the evening prior one of the girls had to cancel and go to a funeral. this left my other friend and i a few hrs in the AM to re-choreograph the elaborate foot and hand/jive esque work. then during the piece the sound system had trouble and the 3 cutest boys in class ran across the stage and started singing 5000 miles got through a verse or two then ran off. magically our music started again and we got through the dance then ran off feeling like tools.

My family used to go away for summer vacation with two other families every year. The other two families each had a daughter two years older than me who I hung out with most of the time.

I forget how old I was when we the three of us decided to enter an Air Band competition together with some of their friends (all older than me). I don’t even remember what song we chose, since I didn’t have to “play” or lip sync it. The only part I remember is that the song had a reference to a fat person in it. I know this because my role was to be padded up with pillows under a giant purple, tie-dyed t-shirt, waddle out onto the stage then be rolled across it. Good times.

One of the really popular activities at my elementary school was juggling, all the cool kids could do it and were even qualified as “master jugglers” by doing a crazy routine with 100+ catches and all sorts of fancy juggling tricks. All I could do was hula hoop. Although I tried my hardest, I could never quite make master juggler. For unknown reasons, I decided to juggle in the school talent show anyway.

There I was, about 10 years old in a maroon velour shirt and leggings, on the school stage with my hula hoop and three juggling balls. I starting hula hooping and tried to juggle but I just kept dropping the balls, which would hit the hula hoop. Rather than let the balls stay on the ground, I tried to pick them up and continue, which is quite difficult to do while hula hooping. I ended up ruining the whole routine I had planned and just leaving the stage before my Britney Spears song was over.

I don’t think I’m quite circus material.

The only talent show I ever took part in was in 4th grade. For some reason, at this time in my life I was obsessed with this boy Jaron, New Kids on The Block and standup comedy. So, being at a point in my life where I had yet to discover what it meant to be self conscious I decided that I would do an original comedy routine.
By the time that the talent show got there, I realized that I knew nothing about writing jokes and that I was going to totally suck and that comedy definitely was not my talent. Jaron, who really was funny (in a 4th grade kind of way) was also doing a comedy routine and had totally killed. So before I went up on stage I asked him to heckle me. I think I ended up laughing at him hecking my stupid jokes more than anybody laughed at anything I had to say.
To this day I don’t tell jokes.

I’m going to enter on behalf of my boyfriend, Shane.

In junior high (87-ish?) his thrash band Vicious Circle performed at the school talent show, playing their song “End the Cruelty,” dedicating it to a jock known for eating goldfish. (Chorus: “End the cruelty! End the pain!”) He also made fliers to post around school advocating “People for the Ethnical [sic] Treatment of Animals.”

Also noteworthy:
5th grade= lipsynching Motley Crue “Home Sweet Home”
6th grade = lipsynching Bon Jovi “You Give Love a Bad Name”
4th grade = lipsynching Duran Duran “Is There Somethign I Should Know” at a mall lipsynch contest (in Wyoming, no less)

OK mel, but there is no way he LOST with that lineup, is there?

He claims that the school talent show was not a win/lose contest, but I think he’s just repressing his embittered disappointment.

Well, when I was in about the 3rd grade I decided to play a song on the piano to try out for the talent show. In the auditions, I completly forgot how to even play. My mind went totally blank and of course I started crying. But, a very nice 8th grader sat down with me and helped me. I don’t even remember if I played in the show or not. The auditions were so traumatic, that’s all I remember.

It took me five years to get up the courage to try again. So, in 8th grade I was going to play another song on the piano. I did fine in the auditions and got into the show. Then I got really sick the day of the show and couldn’t be in it.

In 7th grade, a bunch of my new friends thought it would be fun to do the talent show together. There was one boy and 4 girls. We chose “Tainted Love” and had multiple practice sessions in someone’s basement/rec room. Our choreography was horrible, but we made the cut into the talent show (my jr high was big, you had to audition to audition) but the part that made us losers was that most of the group backed out of the talent show and it ended up being me and another girl dancing around the solo boy. Our costumes were red bandannas worn as kerchiefs, t-shirts and jeans. The routine consisted of the boy lip-syncing and and swaying his hips. I don’t think he moved from center stage. The two of us were on both sides of him, doing some ancient form of the macarena, basically moving our arms to the words of the music (“Sometimes I’ve got to..run away” (and we pantomine the running away)”you need someone to hold you tight” on and on) So not only were we bailed on by our group, but we still had to perform the dance and my bandanna fell off in the middle of the song..yet we kept going. No award, no placement, just 2 awkward pre-teen girls on stage and a gyrating boy. I have the video and it’s embarrassing to even watch. I remember thinking at the time how good our choreography was…Hands together to pray, step pivot step pivot. Awful!

I was in third grade and I decided that I had the best idea in the whole world for a talent show… an anti-smoking message. So while everyone did entertaining songs and dances, there was me telling people that smoking will kill them. At the end, I said “you don’t want this to happen to you…” then I did a big dramatic fall and was pretending to be dead. I’m still proud of that fall

During my kindergarten graduation ceremony, at which we put on a show for the parents, I peed in my pants. I have pictures – I look very generic. All I can remember is that I wore a placard and we sang something in German for some reason. And yet that experience made me the man I am today.

What about outing myself as a big nerdy loser for actually winning a sort-of talent contest? In sixth grade (this was 1989) my friends and I entered this contest sponsored by Caramello – as in the candy bar – where we had to write a song about the importance of staying in school and then videotape ourselves performing a routine to it. The chorus was “oh be cool, stay in school” repeated four times in a row, and one of the “verses” included the witty line “We will graduate, because we won’t drop out.” And we shot our video in front of the middle school to make extra-sure the importance of school was stressed. I can’t remember all the choreography involved, but I know that a human pyramid was included somewhere in the video. Even better, we somehow won something like third place, and we got $400 that we got to split between us, and $400 for the school to use to buy supplies. I spent my money on some pastel-colored fuzzy sweaters at Deb.

My husband apparently didn’t know about this particular humiliating childhood memory until I just read it to him. And he’s already teasing me about it.

I’m such a loser, I never even bothered to enter a talent show!

I don’t need a copy of the cookbook, but I do need to tell you about the dance competition during which I got my period. I only had it once or twice before and I was 11 and highly irregular. So, I’m at this dance competition in Atlantic City and the girls from the other schools are really serious about these competitions. And they’re mean. Mean girls. Like Isa-mean. And about 30 minutes before my group was to perform, I saw red all down the inside of my left leg’s pink ballet tights (you know, the ones with the seems that run down the back of the leg). I didn’t have an extra pair of tights, so my mom had to wash ‘em out and dry with the hand drier while I stood in a bathroom stall and cried and the girls from the other schools made fun of me.

Let’s all hold hands and cry together now, shall we?

As for talent shows, I’ve never lost one.

It wasn’t a talent show with any sort of scoring, but I was co-leading a team of eight 14 and 15 year olds at a service-learning summer camp and we did a skit that, uh, didn’t work out as well as we’d hoped. Most people were sweepers/moppers, but me and three other girls had to walk “seductively” to the front and say our team name followed by “stripper juice,” and then whisper, “we won’t tell if you won’t.” The guy who was supposed to explain what “stripper juice” was a reference to, though, didn’t do as good of a job then as he did in practice, and most people didn’t get that we were referring to the floor stripping solution we used nonstop for three weeks stripping wax off floors at a school. So in front of all my bosses, fellow crew leaders, and 80 or so other campers, we all looked ridiculous and like us leaders were being way bad influences on the kids! Our bosses would just change the subject every time our skit was brought up – I’m glad it was at the end of the camp, so we didn’t get into any trouble! (The team thought it up, not us leaders.)

I wanted to be a director when I was little, so for my 3rd grade’s talent show, i put on a show called “Going To the Mall” using my little brother and some cousins. It consisted of all of them entering a mall (which was foreign to my 3rd-grade-lived-in-vermont-where-malls-don’t-exsit) and buying exciting things for Thanksgiving. Basically, it ended up me being on stage screaming at my little brother for not learning his lines and pushing around my cousins because no one was doing what they were supposed to, and were riding the coin horses instead of buying pretty necklaces. I ran of the stage crying.

when I was 11 I played Scott Joplin’s “The Entertainer” on the piano in a talent contest. It was a battle of wills with my mother–I wanted to play a classical piece that I had learned in piano lessons, but my mom thought I should play something more…entertaining. My mom dressed me up in a little black tux, complete with a cumberbund and bow tie that she made herself out of some juicy red satin, and I tucked my hair up into a pony tail under my black top hat. Because pianists typically aren’t much to watch, my mom injected some choice choreographic moves into my performance–right after I finished playing the last chord of the piece, she suggested that I remove my hat and spin around quickly, and thrust my arms out to both sides, and just stand on stage like that for a few moments during applause. I hated every minute of it, especially because my performance followed what I thought was a “real” piano performance by this kid who performed some crazy difficult classical piece, sans choreography (and if I remember correctly, he won).

I got my period for the first time while lip syncing to paula abdul’s “cold hearted snake” during the 7th grade talent show and my backup dancers laughed so hard they had to stop the act. FAIL MISERABLY AT LIFE.

When I was in fourth grade, I did an interpretive and highly emotional dance to Phil Collins homeless song – Another Day in Paradise. I really wanted to do some kind of music video style dancing to a less douchey song but my mom kept encouraging me to be “different” and “send a message.” Of course, I had no friends so I had to do it alone.

So while the other kids were wearing mall clothes and singing and dancing to the likes of Atlanic Starr and Paula Abdul, I was preparing to take the stage in a very serious long sleeved black leotard and peach tights and dance to elevator music. I told the vice principal, who was in charge of opening and closing the curtains, to promptly close them when I ended with my dramatic closing move – laying on my stomach and arching my back so my toes touched my head. So the song starts and I start “sending a message” through my awesome moves. I impulsively decided to get on the ground and act out the line about having foot problems and not being able to walk. Well, the vice principal must have thought that was my closing move, so he starting closing the curtain even though my moving dance had barely started. People were already laughing and started laughing more when I yelled to the wings “Stop it! I’m not done yet!”

It was too late though, the curtains were closed. I ran off the stage, crying. Needless to say, I lost. In so many ways.

In primary school, I once did a rendition of “Five Little Fishies Are Swimming in the Sea,” an almost naively happy nursery rhyme, with my friends.

There were something like 8 or 9 of us and we were all trotting around the stage slowly flapping our arms (which had badly-made cardboard fins attached to them) in front of the whole school. We made fish-mouths and delivered the song in a dreary monotone. The chorus consisted of us all going “blup blup blupperdyblup” (this sounds marginally less weird in Dutch).

We were the awkward group that hadn’t really discovered popular music yet. All the other acts were things like covers of Spice Girls songs. It was so embarrassing even the crowd stopped laughing at us after a while. Most of them just started looking away, embarrassed for our sake.

We didn’t win.

When I was in the 4th grade, our music teacher made every single kid try out for the talent show. I had no performing talents whatsoever! My mom decided it would be a good idea to get a Weird Al record from the library and choreograph a puppet show to “Fat” (the rip off of “Bad”). The routine consisted of me making a frog hand puppet dance on a table while throwing plastic playfood at the audience. And wouldn’t you know, my evil music teacher loved it so much that she made me preform my sketch in front of the whole school. I am still mortified by that; thank goodness my family does not have it on tape.

OR how about me and my sister duetting “Yeserday” in our matching white-denim shortalls? That one was sadly entirely voluntary.

One time in 2007, there was a talent show online. It involved writing a limerick, and the prize was a signed cookbook. I really wanted it, so I worked super hard, but in the end, I lost because my limerick wasn’t crude enough. :0( That and the fact that it sucked.

Other than that, well . . . I’ve never really been in a talent show. Probably because I have no talent.

In 5th grade, a group of us decided to choreograph a dance number set to Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up”- but since I couldn’t dance, they had me be the minstrel, who would walk across the stage holding up “funny” signs. I had to wear suspenders and a Debbie Gibson style hat… mortifying, but not as bad as if I had been allowed to be in the talent show for my own “talent.” I auditioned to be a stand-up comedian, but I hadn’t rehearsed a single joke- I thought they would just naturally come to me. So, of course they didn’t. You would think this would teach me a lesson. Nope. Flash forward 13 years. A new karaoke bar opened in Long Island City, and my friends and I headed over- what song did I pick but “Slim Shady” – I just assumed that the power to rap would come to me. Uh, it didn’t. Life is like one big horrible talent show/karaoke bar for me. :-/

I was visiting a friend in Houston. Houston was a huge change from the quiet pueblos of Mexico, where I had been living for the past seven years. One night, he invited me to a blues bar that happened to be auditioning for a burlesque show. SOMEHOW…..he convinced me that my curves would be the perfect addition to their show so I entered without ANY prior practice.

What was I thinking!!!!

Lady after lady appeared on stage with brilliant props and costumes. They executed nearly flawless routines.

When my name was called, I put my quarters in the jukebox and played a Santana song….and made my way awkwardly around the stage. No props, no sexy lingerie, just an OLD NAVY spaghetti tank top with a small ketchup stain.

I didn’t become the newest member to the burlesque show, but I do remember this moment quite

(continuation from other reply)

fondly. Carpe diem!

When I was in 7th grade I was in a talent contest. I was the least cool person,ever, and I did a pom-pom routine to the Beatles “Penny Lane”. I wore jeans,had no flashy moves.I had no rythym-at all.It was so bad they didn’t even let me finish it. I cried all the way home and was teased for two years about how I had ‘No pom-pom’s.”
I am still suspicious of cheerleaders.

When we were in 5th grade, our P.E. teacher, Mrs. Fogg, became obsessed with JUMPING ROPE. We had to do a ‘Jumprope Exhibition’ every year and inevitably some small group of children won first place. Lucky me, I was always paired up with my girlfriends, who were the most drama-loving, cat-fighty type females in our grade. Can you imagine?

“NO!!! If I say we’re doing double-dutch at the end, WE’RE DOING IT AT THE END!”

“Emily maybe you should um…wear a bra…for safety reasons.” (Said by one of the mothers, it was amusing to everyone but Emily.)

“GOD! You SUCK at jumping rope! No wonder no boys don’t like you!”

This often meant that our practice sessions ended with one of us storming away, semi-crying, to call our moms to come pick us up.

The night of the ‘exhibition,’ somehow we pulled it together, donned our turquoise t-shirts and scrunchies (Oh scrunchies, I had so many!) and did everything EXCELLENTLY, including said double-dutch part at the end.

And of course, we got third place, behind two groups of cute 4th graders who stumbled around and basically got tied up in the jumpropes and smiled like angels. Adorable little bastards!!! Grrrr.

When we were ten or 11, my sister and I took a jazz (dance) class. At the end of it, we had to put on a recital at this huge theater. The instructor lined us up according to size. To my horror, she told me I was the first one in line. I protested, saying that I was taller than the girl behind me. The teacher made us stand back to back so she could compare. The thing is, this girl had an odd-shaped head. She was, indeed, shorter than me, but when the teacher put us back to back, she tucked her chin down so that the back of her hideous, misshapen head stuck up about a half an inch taller than mine.

So I had to be the first one to run out on stage. It wasn’t a dance contest, but I did (most unfairly) lose the height contest.

I got back at her, though. We had a Christmas grab bag and I bought a little Hello Kitty notebook and wrote “I HATE YOU!” in it on the off chance that Freaky Head Girl would pick it. And she did! She flipped through the notebook and got all upset when she saw the hate message.

I slept good that night.

in the fourth grade, i sang at the school carnival. my dad was dj of the music that year (ugh) and i had ‘impressed’ my music teacher with my rendition of ‘big and loud’, a song from an awful cartoon musical whose name i don’t recall (something with cats?). anyway, i didn’t have any sheet music, so i just sang it to the actual recording, with the real singer’s voice faded out with the ‘kareoke’ button (luckily, i was 10 years old and therefore a soprano like the original singer). i lost the beat somewhere in there, but managed to finish, hitting that high note i loved so much. i think some girls doing a ‘spice girls’ lipsync won.

In high school I had shoulder length hair and loved doing over the top Scott Stapp (lead singer of Creed) impressions. So I auditioned for a talent show by doing an acappela renditon of “What If”

needless to say I didn’t make the cut. They wern’t too impressed with my one second shirt take off either.

damn I thought I embedded the video for the previous comment but yea

http://youtube.com/watch?v=9RZXaoaK8NI

I like sweetshop’s best. Interpretive dance is always a winner.

Am I really spilling this?
Well, the one and only talent show I took part in was a disaster. Another dance-inclined friend (Karissa) and I pressured a few classmates into performing the Spice Girl’s song ‘Stop’. I was 8.
The background story is that my school had a ‘junior cheerleading’ squad who we hated and tried to show up with out mad dance skills. Although there was quite a bit of tumbling in the mix, because Dani and I took gymnastics classes. (But no one else did. Oh no.)
So Karissa and I forced our friends into practicing at every single recess and during gym class. It didn’t really help much, none of our moves were especially coordinated and we didn’t really know what we were doing. (Ok, I remember being at Heather’s birthday party and trying to learn moves from a mid-nineties arobics tape. This must have something to do with us royally sucking)
Talent Show day rolled around, and the only thing the entire group was sure of were the lyrics to Stop. Katrina Schott left the stage (after proving her strength by lifting her kid brother) and it was all or nothing.
The first thing I remember was Heather not being a very good lip-syncher (she was the only ‘singer’) and Crystal falling on her cartwheel. Then horrible chaos ensued; I slipped while doing the ‘Tootsie Roll’, Karissa’s mind went blank in the first 30 seconds of our routine, and we completely FAILED at the closing human pyramid. It just sucked, and it took weeks for the school to shut up about it.

I think the worst part was the fact that it was my idea to have a talent show in the first place, and we completely blew it. Ok, that and the fact that my dad filmed the whole ordeal and complimented me afterwards. Riiiight.

Lauren, we want to see the video.

Well, my school wasn’t terribly up on the talent shows; nothing was ever a competition. In the need for competitive talent, I joined Odyssey of the Mind. We were NOT losers, actually. I was from North Olmsted, one of the premier competitive cities in the world (no, really. if anyone else was at World Competition for OM, we were probably there!). That doesn’t mean that EVERY team was super good. I was on my mom’s team she coached in 8th grade because I had no other team to be on. It sucked. While I was used to high quality, creative 8 minute plays, the swill produced by the structure team I was on in 8th grade was horrible. This was probably because I was one of the older people, and I was never a scripto (ie writer) and was always a propti (ie set worker), we all took part in the writing of the performance. The structure teams didn’t need a stellar performance, as most of the points were in the balsa wood structure designed to hold as much weight as possible (600lbs on a 10 ounce structure, for example); however, you had to PERFORM this, in front of people. One day, while joking around I said “why don’t we get flushed down the toilet, to Australia!” And they LOVED the idea. Not only were we flushed down the toilet, but we were BABIES flushed down the toilet. One memorable line was “me bwankee got wet.” We actually got to state competition because, as I said, performance was only judged a little for this. I was the “nerd” baby, because of course we were all stupid archetypes of 80′s movie characters.

It was so embarassing because I stayed in OM all through HS and joined my team for a reunion tour in college; they would ALWAYS bring up this monstrosity of an OM performance. Luckily, the good team I was on later brought me 2nd place at World my senior year of HS and 1st place in college!

When I was ten two of my friends and I entered a military base talent show. We lined up in our funky clothes and backwards caps and danced the Macarana. First verse we did it the normal way, second verse we did backwards, then we went back to normal, backwards, normal and so on and so forth.

Not only did we lose, but I have to live with the fact that I actually chose the macarana as my talant.

I can’t believe I’m actually gonna share this… I’ve never even told my husband this story… here goes!

I was in grade 8, and there was this popular boy in my class, Mike, whom I had a big crush on. I was a total loser in middle school and practically invisible, but I was sure if I did one of my “cool” jazz-dance class routines at our school’s talent showcase, I’d get Mike’s attention and win him over with my… um… talent and bendy-ness, I guess.

I agonized over what to wear as a costume until I found a full body-suit – shiny black spandex with stirrup-tights and all – that I forgot I owned because I hadn’t worn it since I was 10 years old. It was a tad tight, bit I decided it would be perfect, accented with neon pink, orange, and green wristbands around my wrists and ankles. I crimped my frizzy hair out-to-there and set my hair back with a neon fabric headband. (Please keep in mind this was well into the 90s and I really should have know better. At the very least my parents should have stopped me.)

So it’s the day of the talent show, and backstage I’m the chubby one costumed in spandex, neon, and WAY too much make-up, and ohmigod Mike is in the front row with his friends. The “chicka-chicka” of Yello’s “Oh Yeah” verberates over the speaker, and I went on stage and began. And whenever I got the opportunity, I’d glance over at Mike (I thought I’d give him wink and an Oh-Yeah, to see if I could flirt a little onstage). It occured to me that Mike and his friends weren’t quite impressed at my dancing, but they were certainly amused. They were polite enough to muffle their snickers until I pulled my signature move – a pirouette and jump down into the splits – when they exploded with laughter, and the horrifying RRRRRRRRRRIP was the reason why. My bodysuit had ripped at the seam starting at the crotch all the way up to my waist, front AND back. (Giant yellow cotton panties anyone?) I was so mortified and didn’t know what to do besides carry-on and finish my routine, so carry-on I did. To the tune of the hysteric laughter of 300 preteens, I rushed into my finishing move – a front walkover – and fell on my ass. I couldn’t even hear music anymore over all that laughing.

And yes, it was all caught on VHS.

If that wasn’t bad enough, I had to wear my bodysuit on the city-bus home from school because that was what I had worn to school that day.

I faked sick and didn’t show up at school for the rest of the week. And when I finally went back, I never heard the end of it. Mike was a nice person, and he didn’t make fun (at least not to my face), but his friends and everyone else in the school sure did.

And the legend of “Banana Gitch” lives on…

There you have it: the most embarassing moment of my life, and 15 years of therapy down the drain.

In 6th grade my friends and I choreographed a dance to the Spice Girls and we each dressed up like one of them. I was posh spice and decided it would be fun to wear a strapless shirt (under a lace shirt). While dancing, my shirt kept on falling down, So I made up a Chicken dance-esque arm flappy move in order to pull it back up every time we turned around…turns out everyone knew what I was doing and brought up how funny it was for months…..

In my elementary school, the 6th graders made a movie every year with the help of a math teacher who was into film. My sister had gotten the lead in her 6th grade movie the year before me, and she really pulled it off wonderfully — she was a natural! I was determined not to be outdone by her during my 6th grade year. I studied my lines nonstop for weeks, and auditioned my heart out. Much to my horror, after auditions the teachers took me aside and told me how much they really needed my help behind the camera. I ended up clacking that thing and saying things like, “Scene 2, Take 1″, and felt thoroughly disgraced. My teachers were right, though. Out of pity, I think, they gave me a bit part with a couple lines, and I was awful. Just awful!

When I was in 5th grade, the music teacher coerced my twin sister and I to enter the school talent show. We were very shy, and not at all excited to participate. To make matters worse, our assigned “talent” was to do cartwheeels and other gymnastic feats, dressed as the siamese cats from Lady and the Tramp. To the song “We are Siamese.” Complete with leotards and whiskers painted on our faces. It was brutal. Not surprisingly, and to this day I cringe whenever I hear that damned song.

Where I went to school, talent shows weren’t a competitive event. I did, however, receive second place in the county fair when I was 16 for a short film I wrote, directed, produced, edited, and starred in. It was a short spy-movie satire, and I had to step in front of the camera when my leading lady bailed, meaning I had to pretend to kiss the most obnoxious boy in the junior class (the only one willing to play opposite me) in TWO scenes. Plus, he didn’t learn his lines, so in several shots you can tell he’s reading off script pages I taped to walls, his car, notebooks, etc. He decided it would be funny to tell the entire class we were romantically involved (as if!). All that freaking embarrassment (trust me, it got pretty bad!) and I tied for SECOND place. Grrr.

In college our dorm had an air guitar contest. I was a known rock chick in the building, so just about everyone who entered requested my assistance for costuming and choreography. I loaned out most of my punk and hard rock clothes. You want authentic? I borrowed clothes from non-student, heavy metal friends, complete with smoke, sweat, and beer scents oozing out! I had one group as the Sex Pistols, one group doing Van Halen, another doing Spinal Tap…and there were two or three others.

And every single group I helped…lost. The act that won? A fat guy in a mini-dress doing Whitney Houston, “I Wanna Dance With Somebody.” No guitar or anything, he just lip-synched and danced. And I had nothing to do with it.

Yes, it was humiliating…

Fifth Grade. St. Ben’s Catholic School. There was a talent show, but I was waaaay to shy to participate. Everybody had been practicing for weeks, when a flu outbreak happened upon our area. With several people out sick, an 20 minutes before showtime, Sr. Carlene strongarmed me (literally) to perform a cheer with the other girls. I begged and begged not to go on, saying I felt sick. Thinking I was just trying to get out of performing, she pushed me on stage. I started along with the girls: “We got spirit, yes we do….” I tried to run off stage, and Sr. Carlene (wow, she was quick) pushed me back on. Then, right after the “how ’bout YOU”….I barfed. All over myself. All over the stage. All over myself. All over the girls. Did I mention I was the top of the pyramid? Oh, and Sr. Carlene didn’t stop me when I ran off. I was Blech-rica for years.
Erica

The only thing I can remember (I must be blocking all the really horrible stuff) is a public speaking competition (we called it Prize Speaking) and this was for our elementary school, grades k-6. Every class did their own thing and then you could sign up to compete in the school wide competition, of course the only finalist for the school competition were 5th and 6th graders (’cause we were just he coolest, way better then those smelly 1st graders). I was in 6th grade, the previous year I had chickened out and didn’t compete in front of the school, and I went for it. We had to memorize our stories and then perform it during a school assembly.
My story was called “The Hairy Toe” http://www.seomraranga.com/seasonal/halloween/hairytoe.doc (it took me a little while to google up the right one)
It wasn’t super embarrassing though I was terrified. I’ve always been terrified to speak in front of people but thought I’d try to conquer my fear. Well a couple of days after the assembly we found out who the finalists were who would perform in an evening competition infront of the the parents. I made the final 5! Crap, that wasn’t supposed to happen. The night of I told my hairy toe story, in my spookiest voice “Where’s my hairy toe?”, and lost out to someone reciting Silverstein.

I recited Meatloaf’s Wasted Youth monologue at church camp when I was 13.
’nuff said, I think.

Speaking of “I Wanna Dance With Somebody,” for some odd reason I felt compelled to enter a talent show in 4th grade. I knew I wanted to use that song and I knew I didn’t want to dance like everyone else. So, I decided on the baton. And a hula-hoop. And a ribbon. (I couldn’t decide on just one, since they were all so neat).

My ribbon and the ribbons I tied to the baton were turquoise like my dolphin shorts and the hula hoop was pink like my tank top. My mom kept offering to show me how to do tricks with the baton, since I had no idea how to use one. I refused. I insisted that tossing it up really high was trick enough (even if I only caught it a third of the time). So I practiced tossing and hooping and waving that ribbon about every after noon–for 3 days.

Come show time, I missed the baton on the second try. And the third. i moved on to the ribbon, prancing around the stage until I stepped on the ribbon and tore it. I spent the rest of the performance–what seemed like an eternity–standing in the middle of the stage hula hooping and staring at the crowd as they in turn stared back at me.

Eye contact+hula hoop gyrations+Whitney Houston=uncomfortable

I hate rhythmic gymnastics to this day.

when I was about 8 or 9 years old me and my friends did a dance to the song “lollipop”. I was in white underwear/pajamas with a cardboard circle painted all different colors attached to my head, my face was also painted white (I was a lollipop). My best friend was also dressed like me and her younger sister was in a pink dress (she stood in the middle of the stage with the “lollipops” on the sides). We practiced our dance for months and it was basically just a lot of bad lip-syncing (sp?) and butt shaking in front of everybody from church.

when I was a kid, our school took our talent competitions that they weren’t even talent competions, but highly choreographed children wearing matching outfits and “singing” (think North Korea’s “student games” except without the communism). anyway, one such “talent competition” involved us competing against another school in a big outdoor arena. we were doing “gymnastics” and i was wearing a white jumpsuit. anyway, the whole day involved standing out on a big dirt field for 3 hours rehearsing, then sitting in the stands waiting for our turn, and by that time i had to pee like a mofo. except we were supposed to go on right then. and this was no 3 minute pop song. this was like opera. it went on for hours. so i peed my pants, which wouldn’t have been so horrible, except for the dust of the arena was red, and stuck to all the wet spots. if it didn’t look like i had peed, it certainly looked like someone had stabbed me in the utereus. and this is not to mention the wet spot i left on the ground, and the hundreds of other children watching, and the remaining hours i had to sit in the arena waiting for the competition to be over, and the hour ride back to school.

some kindly teacher had giant legwarmers in her car, so she helped me wash up, and i spent the rest of the day wearing a long t-shirt and wool leg warmers as pants… in june.

and people wonder why i’m so afraid on the stage today.

Oh wow. When I was in the third(?) grade I, along with two of my best friends, decided to do a gymnastics routine for our (non-competative) talent show. The only problem was that we had about two and a half years of gymnastics experience between us. So, a very kind former gymnast speech therapist decided to take us under her wing. So we ended up doing this VERY interpretive routine involving series of front flips and cartwheels following a soulfully choreographed ribbon-twirling bit with a grand “monkey somersault” big finish. For those unfamiliar this is basically a two-person somersault, you kind of hold on to each others ankles and akwardly propel yourselves forward. It can really only be done two at a time so we did it like four times to ensure that every possible combination was fulfilled. The topper, we wore patriotically-themed leotards (regular blue leotards emblazonded with zillions of little white sparkly stars by my grandma) and those tights that are different colors in each leg (one red one blue, in case you were wondering). And all of this lovelyness was done to the vocal stylings of Neil Diamond. If only I could remember what song!
It was amazing. People were talking about it for months.
I have deep emotional scars. Neil Diamond makes my stomach turn to this day, I may have been nine, but I knew when I was being mocked. They only said that there weren’t losers…

wow, i was never emotionally scarred by a talent show, cause i never had the guts to try one. i guess i was born emotionally scarred

In fourth grade, myself and three friends had planned to perform a dance to a Janet Jackson song for the talent show. At the last minute, since we couldn’t agree on anything, I thought it would be REALLY cool to instead lip sync a comedy routine from a Lucy-Desi (of I Love Lucy, of course) cassette tape I had. Two of us dressed up as Desi and two as Lucy……. all we did was lip synch all the dialog and jokes (if we even remembered the words, which we mostly didn’t)…………so, imagine two 8 yr old girls wearing top hats and pretending to be Desi Arnaz, and two wearing random dresses with not-dyed-red-hair, pretending to be Lucille Ball… doing routines involving jokes about marraige, etc. I don’t even think we got all the jokes, either… I just thought Lucille Ball was insanely cool and forced us to do this ridiculous, not-funny-re-done and not-cool routine from the 1950′s for a bunch of elementary school children.

Needless to say, we definitely lost…. and no one laughed… at all.

When I was 14 we had this talent show/game show at summer camp. Several people were chosen from the audience to come and bob for apples. I was one of them. I went first, and plunged my face into the tub of water. I easily grabbed an apple with my teeth, but as I was coming up for air in triumph, I realized that everyone was not cheering but LAUGHING, because the tub of water also contained a whole lot of FROGS. So humiliating……

Um…my friend will not thank me for revealing this (and she occasionally comes on here so sorry Lis in advance!!). When we were in year 6, we had an after school talent show that we seriously practiced for three + months. We were going to do a dance routine to the song ‘love shack’. We would’ve won for sure if Lis hadn’t stop dancing mid-way into the first verse and got this look of panic on her face. The rest of us kept dancing for a while until it was apparent that no one was really watching the rest of us. I went over to her side of the stage and asked what was wrong…apparently she really really needed to pee and it was so bad that she knew if she moved she would probably go all over the stage. We eventually decided to say she got stage fright and all stood in front of her to block her from the audience in case she did pee herself. Turned out ok for her, except for the occasional references and retelling of the incident to her new boyfriends.

I was in 8th grade and performed “Say the Words” by DC Talk (a christian rap group). And I tried to dance hip hop style, too. BAD IDEA! Honky can’t dance. I didn’t have any accidents, but a lot of kids teased me about it into my freshman year of HS, and one even managed to tease me (successfully, I might add) all the way ’til my senior year. A**hole.

Hello Isa:

I was a GORILLA for a talent show…imagine that. I totally forgot my lines before the performance and merely mumbled my way through the skit. I was SOOOO hot in my costume I couldn’t think straight. This was in 8th grade for a science project, but unfortunately we didn’t place. So much for the wildlife backdrop and hours of practice and determination. I realized that it doesn’t matter if you win the prize…as long as you gain something from the experience you’ve walked away a winner.

I’ve been reading about your blog and look forward to your posts. I’m coming to NY this Thurdsay to go to Hangawi for dinner for my b-day and Pizza Plus for lunch in Brooklyn…per your recommendation. Any suggestions where to go for dessert.

We choreographed a dance number to MJ’s thriller. and performed it.. with costumes.
And yes we did that lame zombie/mummy? walk number.
:shudders:

When I was in 5th grade(2001,yeah i know)i wanted to do the talent show really bad,but nobody wanted to do it with me.also,i didn’t really have any talents that you could perform for people.so i decided i would dance.and dancing turned into lip synching as well.to N’sync.the song “i want you back” to be precise.so since dancing wasn’t really a talent of mine and lip synching boy band songs isn’t really a talent (just what 90% of the girls doing the show were doing,i was the only guy) i didn’t really know what i was doing.but decked out in demin jeans with a matching vest,a rhinestone studded bandanna(had to be just like j timby,not that he was known as j timby back then) and chunky white and blue etnies skate shoes i got up there and 2 stepped,slid around,and tried to copy every move janet jackson did in the “it’s all for you” music video to wow the masses.of course i was mouthing along the lyrics,too.unfortunately nobody went wild when it got to “Girl what can I do?” and when i ended with my back faced to the audience for the final line of “i want you back” it was probably better that way.considering they just witnessed a chubby 10 year old boy with no talent for dancing prance around a stage thinking he was justin timberlake.let’s not focus on the fact that i lost and that everyone thought i was a total freakand that i didn’t live down the title of “pussy” for the rest of elementary school career,but that i did it,and did the first half of the song in a pair of my mom’s gucci sunglasses,taking them off on the line “Baby I remember the way you used to look at me and say promises never lasts forever”.(get it,LOOK,and sunglasses.heh,see i was so full of potential)

In 6th grade a group of 6 of us decided to do a dance to the Macarena. We were highly influenced by Clueless at the time, so we made up a version called the Valley Girl Macarena. I didn’t have a side ponytail, but I had a small butterfly clip holding little bits of hair on each side of my face. Our moves were putting our hands out in a W and saying “Whatever” followed by double Ls for which we said “Loser,” hands on shoulders, double sided hair toss, hands on hips, etc. etc. and instead of the hip wiggle we held out our hands as if asking for money from daddy.

It was not my proudest moment – even then.

In 4th grade 2 of my friends and I created a dance routine to Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up.” We thought we were really good, but apparently the 2 talent show judges did not. We didn’t make the cut. One of judges… was my mom. Talk about feeling like a looser! :-( haha

In 11th grade (yes, I was this old), we did a dance to “Thriller” complete with a red (denim) jacket and the fog and everything. All girls. But I was so nervous that I actually ran off stage during one of the points where we were all supposed to be dead zombie freaks kind of scaring the audience. We all kind of got close to the audience to be scary. But, I jumped off of the stage towards the AUDIENCE, and ran down an aisle to the back, and then back to the backstage area to wait for the dance to be over. And we lost, because of me.

when i was around 10 me and my friends entered some competition doing a cringingly embarrassing dance to micheal jacksons thriller(it was the 80′s) anyway not only did i totally mess up the moves, my mom told me afterwards that my zipper was down the whole time – and i was in the front row..obviously we didn’t win…we kind of got a bewildered charity clap afterwards..we were also wearing ridiculous home made halloween scary monster masks- god the shame!

lol at the amount of embarrassing stories that involve thriller- who knew!

Oh God. When I was in third grade, and wildly unpopular, my wildly unpopular friend and I decided to do a dance to “Papa Don’t Preach”. Keep in mind that neither of us had any dance training whatsoever. Our dance considered of one of us skipping onstage, twirling around, and striking a pose. Then we’d freeze in a dramatic pose, and the other would start. We were both dressed like Madonna, except for the glasses and braces. The best part is, my teacher taped it and sent it into our pen-pal class off somewhere across the country. The teacher there went around and interviewed every single child asking them “Who did you think was better?” Can you imagine? Of course, almost of all of them said my friend.

When I was in 6th grade, I tried to convince 2 classmates to do a tumbling routine to “Send in the Clowns”. although, none of us tumbled, we did not rehearse & we actually did not even make up a routine. We had one move – where we somersaulted into the center & bonked heads. But I did get into a talent show later that year with my stellar Carol Burnett style commercials in your home sketch. You know, we rolled out a table, with some one hiding behind it, & did the “Parkay, butter” speaking butter dish gag & the palmolive you’re soaking in it commercial – all in a day’s life of what I imagined a busy housewife to be. I did not win, but I later went on to perfect my TV rip off sketches in high school with the senior/faculty show – which included Love Boat & Dating Game themes.

When I was in the six grade our teachers paired us off (ugh) for the mandatory last-day-of-school talent show.

I ended up with this boy who everyone hated because he was a big forking loser. His name was Rob Robertson and he wore sweatpants every day, and you could see his little wiener. Cool dude.

We decided we would sing “Achy Breaky Heart” and his mother MADE him a pair of pleather pants and bought him a cowboy hat. I was so embarrassed that I just stood there with my arms crossed. I didn’t sing, I didn’t move, I didn’t do anything. He was clearly upset about it during our performance so he made his act even more exciting and did lots of dancing and twirling, things of that nature.

They actually awarded him the paper-certificate as one of the winners (there were like 5 teams that won). During the announcement they actually made a point to say that I did NOT receive a certificate because I didn’t participate with my partner and that they were disappointed to see my lack of team-work and that they hoped going into Junior High that I would improve on that.

Is this still open?

In sixth grade we did a dance to Montell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It.’ We dressed in black and white, made giant paper cut-outs of a peace sign and a yin-yang (for some reason) to decorate the stage. I am very ashamed to admit that it all ended with one of those lame “rappers” arm-crossing bits that everyone was so fond of in the ’80s and ’90s. It was on cable-access for months.

Two years later, we’d planned on doing another dance, but 3 of the 5 girls had decided to do something else without informing the rest of us… because apparently we were no longer cool enough to make idiots of ourselves on stage next to them anymore. The other outcast and I set out to do something ourselves, which eventually turned into a really bizarre play involving Cinderella scrubbing the floor, a disco-dancing scene… and a guy “driving” by in his cardboard car while The Offspring’s ‘Pretty Fly for a White Guy’ played. (The totally awesome song du jour, I believe.)

I’d love to be able to explain just for terribly that idea failed, but fortunately, we got bored during rehearsal one day… and just walked out, never to return.

There were no winners and losers at our talent show… but, I’d say those stories definitely point out my loser-y-ness.

IN sixth grade, me and my friend, improv experts that we were, decided to do a completely unscripted “news” program skit. All of our stories ended up being about malibu barbie having plastic surgery, or zombie olympics. We weren’t as good at improv as we thought, the next day, the girl sitting next to me told me she would never have done something like that, because she would never have wanted to look that stupid, yeah, rub it in, bitch

I didn’t lost a talent show- I lost a spelling bee. I made the finals, then missed “without” because I was nervous. I have never forgotten! I was shamed!

Nicole,

In playing Lucy, you actually had a Lucy episode. The irony was lost on the judges.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wgl7st70jek

I did the macarena with my “friends” for a talent show at the ymca, we did the dance exactly, sung the song and wore dumb outfits….we didn’t win.

oh yeah it was in elementary school if that helps or saves my dignity…

when i was 4, i had to sing a christmas carol in front of my church with 2 other kids. well i was nervous and kept playing with the hem of my dress while we were waiting for our cue. since i was 4, i also liked to suck my thumb, but i decided to suck the thumb on the hand that was fidgeting with the bottom of my dress. so i pulled my dress up to suck my thumb right when we were given our cue. i also decided singing was for bitches and figured the crowd would rather look at my pink ruffled panties during the whole song while i just stared at the two boys i was supposed to be singing with. i was such a little tease!

I wasn’t actually in the talent show, but my brother was…
My brother was three or four years ahead of me (my how my brain doesn’t know things it should) and he had decided to do a “stand-up comedy” routine.
Most of the routine consisted of me being the pun of the jokes.
One in particular was, “My sister is so ugly we have to tie a steak around her neck so the dog will play with her.”
I continued to sink further and further into my seat as friends and non-friends continuously turned and stared and laughed at me.
Bastard, I hope his betrayal will score me something.

I tried out for the elementary school talent show in fourth grade with two friends and this girl who I have no idea how she got into my group. She was friends with another girl in the group from Hebrew school. She was heavy and awkward with very large glasses. We decided to do a dance to Walk Like an Egyptian. We practice all weekend long, and then planned to all don bed sheets as togas for costumes. One of our group members, a recent immigrant from Eastern Europe, showed up with some sort of cartoon bed sheet instead of a white one. I knew we were in trouble.
We put our song in the tape deck and all did completely different dances since no one seemed to remember to choreography the same. We were so untalented that we weren’t even allowed to perform in the talent show. This was all about 20 yrs ago before everything in elementary school was all touchy feely “we’re all special.” We were special alright… in a different way.

So for fourth and fifth grade, I did the same thing.

I did Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me.” Despite the fact I took dance class as a toddler, I seemed to have no idea that dancing was meant to be to the rhythm and NOT about the words.

Let’s just say my act included sugar packets and bubbles.

I guess I was ahead of my time for interpretational dance, huh?

I just remember what song we “performed” in the story I mentioned above: “Hangin’ Tough” by New Kids on the Block (hush, I was eight!). I came out for the “Fat Lady sings” part, waved my hand in the air like I just didn’t care for the next few “Oh”s then got rolled across the stage.

When I was 15, I signed up to play the piano for our area homeschool competition. This was the last year I was eligible. I had been practicing the same piece for almost a year and as the competition drew closer, my teacher and I were frantically trying to smooth out the remaining sloppiness inherent in my musicianship.
So the day arrives. I’m sitting in the audience, listening to the kids ahead of me. They are good, admittedly. They probably all practice like they’re supposed to. They most definitely study out of pro-creationism textbooks. I know that many of the girls are only allowed to wear long skirts and dresses. One such girl is sitting next to me looking nervous and wearing thin white gloves to keep her fingers warm. She has been my arch rival for the last 4 years or so.
Well. I’ll show her. I’ll show them all. Sure I hate performing, but I can do this!!
Oh shit. it’s my turn. White-glove girl and I exchange false pleasantries, and I stumble up to the judges table, sheet music for my Rachmaninoff prelude in hand. They glance at my music, say something encouraging, and I lurch up to the piano.
I sit. I glance at my mother, smiling sweetly back at me from the packed audience. Here goes nothing.
I begin. Wow, these keys are heavier than I’m used to. I think the bench is too close. Hell, I missed those notes again. Do you think the judges noticed I totally botched that? I complete the first section with my usual glitches.
Moving on to the flowing dramatic middle portion, I realize I have just played the wrong section, which sounds suspiciously like the part I’m supposed to play. Shit. I’m playing the same part in circles. Shit.
I stop playing. I grimace at the judges. They ask: do you want your music? Um. Sure. Thanks.
If there’s one thing I do worse than practicing, it’s reading music. I retrieve the music. I begin again. I screw up again. And again.
I take a deep breath, stand up, look out at the sympathetic audience (well, except for my arch rival) and proclaim:
“Sorry, I can’t do this. Thanks very much.” I take a bow, and leave the stage, feeling oddly euphoric.
I should mention, I now make my living as a piano teacher. Go figure.

Not a talent show…but dance class…when I was about 4 years old.

Keep in mind, this is all on tape. It’s on one of those little tapes that you have to stick in a bigger one to be able to play, but for some reason my parents still have the technology to do that.

So in dance class there is this song playing called “tightrope walking” or some shit like that…and there is this straight tape line across the floor that we have to pretend to tightrope walk across. All of our parents are sitting there. Being four and not having much in the way of fine motor skills all of the kids are wobbling a little bit. Just a little bit though. Of course, here comes my turn. And wait, I wobble. Wobble some more. And fall on the floor. Then all you see is my mom’s friend is laughing and camera shaking because my mom is laughing so hard. Yeah, I think I’m pretty much the only kid ever to fall off an imaginary line. Needless to say, I’m not much of a dancer now.

I didn’t even get to be in the talent show.

When I was about eight my sister, who was six, and I decided to try out for our school talent show. We were to sing “Somewhere Out There” from American Tale in a duet. We made our own mouse costumes using contruction paper.

We sang our song and were unceremoniously cut.

MAN EVERY ONE SHOULD OF BEEN WEARING TIGHT SPANDEX

i always use leg warmers during the winter months to feel comfy.-;:

we often need leg warmers during the cold winter months in our place. we prefer cotton or wool..~

the best drum set that i have used is the ones that is made by Pearl-;~

i just gave my boyfriend a Pearl drum set, they sound super great ‘

my voice lessons were given to me by my aunt who also teaches some amateur pop singers to improve their voices ~:;