I had an audition for a voice over at Nickelodeon yesterday. The only problem is, I, uh, didn’t know about it, because the details on the reading came via e-mail during a period of a couple days last week when all e-mail sent to me went flying off into the gamma quadrant of the Zarkon V Nebula.

Luckily for me, the director of this project was really into reading me, and we were able to reschedule for this morning.

Okay, I know I’m supposed to maintain some professional detachment, so when I don’t get the job it’s less of a disappointment, but I had a crush on this project as soon as I read the breakdown. After I met the director and grokked what sort of story she wants to tell, I was hopelessly in love with the project. I really, really hope I get this job.

I’ve talked about how much I like going to Nick
in the past, but I’ll just do it again for those of you who didn’t listen to RFB #4: Nickelodeon just feels good to me. It’s not intimidating like Disney, it’s not corporate like some other places, and I really feel like I’m walking right into a Nickelodeon cartoon. Some of my happiest childhood television memories are of Nickelodeon shows, like You Can’t Do That on Television, Mr. Wizard, The Third Eye (SCARY!) and Danger Mouse, too, and I did lots of things with Nickelodeon when I was a teen idol, including getting slimed several times and hosting the Kid’s Choice Awards, so I think that makes it easier for me to find a happy place when I audition for any Nickelodeon shows.

The other reason I always find a happy place at Nickelodeon is entirely due to the guard who works the parking garage gate there. I don’t know his
name[1], but he is one of the kindest, warmest, and friendliest guards
people I’ve ever encountered. I realized today that he plays a very big part
in why I love going to Nick so much, and why I always give good
auditions there.

He is the first person I encounter when I pull up. He is a gentle, grandfatherly, white-haired man in his late 60s, and always seems to be smiling. He always makes me feel at ease, and gives me (and everyone else who comes in, I’m sure) the impression that he really wants me to book the job, like it matters to him, and he believes in me. I realized today that I’ve always picked up a bit of his kindness and warmth and carried it in with me. It’s nice to be so utterly at ease when I walk into an audition, you know? It makes a big difference.

I probably shouldn’t disclose too many details about the story that I auditioned for, but it is a wonderful, funny, charming animated short about a geek and a goth who are starcrossed lovers.

I’m sure you’re all surprised to hear that I read for the geek. I used my sense memories to recall the Kyra crush and did my best to be the kind of guy who "you want to take his glasses off, and mess up his hair, because he’s so cute and he doesn’t know it," according to the director, who I really, really liked.

I honestly don’t know if I’ll get the job, because I’m worried about how deep and manly my awesome voice is. Even though I know I can get the teenage voice down to second nature wth enough practice, I have done this long enough to know that when someone else comes in and nails it, they always hire the "nailed it" guy over the "could nail it with enough practice" guy. That’s just science, and you can’t argue with science (unless you’re one of those "global warming is a myth and evolution doesn’t exist" moonbats, in which case arguing with science is sort of your whole reason for existing, right?)

Anyway, I had a blast reading for this project, and I was so excited when I left, I totally forgot to steal a camphone snap of the hawesome four foot tall SpongeBob made out of LEGO in the lobby. If I get the job, or the next time I’m at Nick, I’ll grab a picture of it on my way in, because I’m usually skipping with nerdy excitment whenever I’m on my way out.

Whether I book this job or not, I’ll be watching for it when it airs, and I’ll be sure to post about it, because it’s the type of show that I know WWdN readers will love.

[1] In comments, formerlyme says, "Hey Wil, I used to work at Nick. I know exactly who you’re talking
about. His name is Don, and he’s the most awesome security guy ever."

A week before I wrote about our plans to do the San Diego Rock-n-Roll marathon in June, I seriously tweaked my neck. I’d like to thank Hwy. 18 and all the snow that kept us on said highway for seven hours instead of an hour and a half like it should have been. I was with two girlfriends, both of whom were scared to death to be driving in the snow while I sat in the back seat, appearing calm, but leaning to the center of the seat to look out the front window of doom, all the while clenching my teeth. Thus, tweaked neck. [Note from Wil: The next time I beg Anne not to go up into the mountains during one of the worst storms in a decade, because "it’s just a really bad idea," there’s a 20% chance she’ll listen to me.]

Before this weekend of white dusted hell, we were well into our training, and very excited to start our fundraising. As I sat writing about it (pumped full of every pain medication I could find and a heat pack around my neck,) I figured I would be up and running in no time and going full speed ahead with big plans of dashing through 26.2 miles with ease. Boy was I wrong!

My neck continued to get worse. All I could do was lay down. I missed almost three weeks of work, and I got so freaked out by the pain I made Wil take me to an orthopedist to get an MRI, because when one of your friends has cancer, suddenly every minor ache or pain you get could be cancer, too. He said it was just a really bad muscle spasm and had me start physical therapy immediately. I did this for a couple of weeks, and of course being the over-doing it person I am, I went back to work as soon as it felt better, only to tweak it more and end up in physical therapy again. [Note from Wil: The next time I say, "Hey, you really shouldn’t push it, honey, and give yourself a little bit more time to heal," there is a 25% chance Anne will listen to me.]

Fast forward to five weeks later and it’s back to the marathon training drawing board. Instead of looking at doing ten miles on the weekend, we’re struggling to run two miles without stopping. How are we going to do the whole 26.2 miles when it’s just six weeks away? Um, I’m thinking that’s not a good idea. Let’s be realistic.

I had dinner with Kris in between one of those "I’m feeling better" moments. The first thing she said was "How are you going to run that whole marathon?" Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. So I came up with a solution: a half marathon was definitely do-able. And making our fundraising goal a little more within reach would make us all not freak out about this whole thing. So that’s what we’re going to do. Our fundraising goal has been pulled back to $10,000, so we’re already halfway there, and our distance goal has been cut in half, to a more realistic 13.1 miles.

As for Kris’ progress, she’s doing great! Her biopsy came back clean, and though it is six months to two years before she will know if the transplant was a success, she is at home and back on her feet. In fact, she recently went on a road trip with her son to look at colleges. It’s so wonderful that not only is her dream of seeing her son graduate going to happen, but she will get to see him go to college next year.

Also, her husband is finally doing the addition they’ve talked about doing for the 15 years they’ve lived in their house, which is another thing to look forward to. And her huge family reunion she looks forward to every other year is in Lake Tahoe in June. She’s so excited to see them. Her treatment was definitely worth going through again. And, honestly, it was worth it from my selfish point of view, too. I didn’t want to lose my friend, so I’m so happy she fought back and won.

Although Wil and I had every intention of doing this full marathon again, sometimes things just happen. And in my 36 years here, I have learned that everything happens for a reason. Good or bad. But we just do the best we can. [Note from Wil: Life is what happens while you’re making other plans, in other words.]

So if you would like to contribute to our fundraising efforts, you can do it here. Even if it’s just five dollars, or whatever change you can collect from around your car or your couch it really matters; so many people read Wil’s blog, tiny individual contributions rapidly turn into enormous and significant totals.

Note from Wil: I sincerely hope that our choice to switch to a half-marathon doesn’t let down anyone who already sponsored us. We’re doing the very best we can under some really stressful circumstances that I can’t publicly talk about, and it looks like we’re going to end up walking most of the (half)marathon in June. To me, it feels like a major defeat and I’m disappointed that we aren’t going to be able to do the whole thing, but this isn’t really about me and Anne; this is about Kris and her family and everyone who has somehow been affected by cancer. Thank you all so much for your support, whether it’s sponsorship, kind comments, or just a positive thought while you’re walking your dog.

The original "Comments from the Wife" posts are: 3.0, 3.1, 3.2, 3.3, 3.4, 3.5, 3.6, 4.0. You may also want to read the first Comments from the Wife: in Exile.