The Journey



Where will you begin?
Following Mia Boostrom through her greatest achievements.

We Finally Arrived. My dad parked the car, and we headed for the New York convention center. I had on a summer dress with a white cardigan, ballet flats, curly hair and a smile that formed every time someone looked at my guitar on my back. We walked a few blocks and then I saw the line. Thousands of other hopefuls just like me were lined up for blocks outside the convention center. gulp. I was really hoping that the audition process was going to be easy, but when I looked at this line, this enormous formation of people who shared my exact dream, I got extremely nervous. But I swallowed my fear, and headed to the end of the line. 
Surprisingly, we only waited for a half an hour. The convention doors opened up and with my eyes glued to my feet and a nervous stomach, I walked in and headed for briefing table. A dozen producers sat down and took down the auditioners’ names and handed out our audition numbers. When it was my turn, I walked up to the first producer, and she handed me my number, 831510. I was all set. I was ready to go into my very first holding room!
(I have been in dozens of holding rooms in my life time since then, and I have learned to love them. Although we wait and wait for hours on end, It’s where I’ve met some of my closest friends. I’d have to say, the holding room, is my favorite room).

I sat down in an empty chair and looked around. I saw musicians, belly dancers, fire breathers, sword swallowers, gymnasts, comedians, jugglers, roller skaters. You name it, the America’s Got Talent Holding Room HAD IT. I was so simple compared to these other people. They all had sequins on their clothes and eye make-up that seemed to jump off their faces. I quickly noticed, camera crews running in and out, only interviewing the extremely interesting looking people, or the odd balls that come riding into the room on a unicycle lit on fire. I tried to make myself known, so I pulled out my guitar and started playing a song. But all I got was, “miss, could you quiet down so we can finish the interview”. Yikes! I could tell this was going to be more nerve-wracking than anything I have ever done. 
Hours later, I was finally called into a separate holding area. I took a seat outside an audition room next to a punk rock band and a crew of dancer on roller-skates. Even though my nerves were taking over my mind, I still had a little thing called the flu. I was so obnoxious. I was just standing there, blowing my nose, and scarfing down Ricola like no body’s business. I finally just stopped being self conscience about my “sick” condition and decided to just let it rip. This was my moment, and I didn’t want anything to affect my voice. I felt bad for disturbing my new punk rocker friends, but this was my chance! Another 2 hours rolled by and I was still waiting outside of the audition room. My punk rock band friends already left the audition room, and unfortunately didn’t make the cut. I was the only one of the first group left waiting, and others started to pile into the holding area. 

“Audition number…831510, please come with me” View high resolution

We Finally Arrived. My dad parked the car, and we headed for the New York convention center. I had on a summer dress with a white cardigan, ballet flats, curly hair and a smile that formed every time someone looked at my guitar on my back. We walked a few blocks and then I saw the line. Thousands of other hopefuls just like me were lined up for blocks outside the convention center. gulp. I was really hoping that the audition process was going to be easy, but when I looked at this line, this enormous formation of people who shared my exact dream, I got extremely nervous. But I swallowed my fear, and headed to the end of the line. 

Surprisingly, we only waited for a half an hour. The convention doors opened up and with my eyes glued to my feet and a nervous stomach, I walked in and headed for briefing table. A dozen producers sat down and took down the auditioners’ names and handed out our audition numbers. When it was my turn, I walked up to the first producer, and she handed me my number, 831510. I was all set. I was ready to go into my very first holding room!

(I have been in dozens of holding rooms in my life time since then, and I have learned to love them. Although we wait and wait for hours on end, It’s where I’ve met some of my closest friends. I’d have to say, the holding room, is my favorite room).

I sat down in an empty chair and looked around. I saw musicians, belly dancers, fire breathers, sword swallowers, gymnasts, comedians, jugglers, roller skaters. You name it, the America’s Got Talent Holding Room HAD IT. I was so simple compared to these other people. They all had sequins on their clothes and eye make-up that seemed to jump off their faces. I quickly noticed, camera crews running in and out, only interviewing the extremely interesting looking people, or the odd balls that come riding into the room on a unicycle lit on fire. I tried to make myself known, so I pulled out my guitar and started playing a song. But all I got was, “miss, could you quiet down so we can finish the interview”. Yikes! I could tell this was going to be more nerve-wracking than anything I have ever done. 

Hours later, I was finally called into a separate holding area. I took a seat outside an audition room next to a punk rock band and a crew of dancer on roller-skates. Even though my nerves were taking over my mind, I still had a little thing called the flu. I was so obnoxious. I was just standing there, blowing my nose, and scarfing down Ricola like no body’s business. I finally just stopped being self conscience about my “sick” condition and decided to just let it rip. This was my moment, and I didn’t want anything to affect my voice. I felt bad for disturbing my new punk rocker friends, but this was my chance! Another 2 hours rolled by and I was still waiting outside of the audition room. My punk rock band friends already left the audition room, and unfortunately didn’t make the cut. I was the only one of the first group left waiting, and others started to pile into the holding area. 

“Audition number…831510, please come with me”

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