Stage Fright

This week's posts are inspired by the fears, frights, tricks and treats of Halloween. In the spirit of this hallowed day I thought it was fitting to share this story..

This past weekend while at home I found myself looking through some memorabilia from my summers at camp. With the boxes of letters and pictures came a memory I will never forget and it went a little bit like this...

I had all the credentials to be cast in Rockbrook Camp's 1997 production of Oklahoma! At only nine years old I had already taken the stage as "The Queen of Hearts" in the first grade play, and convincingly shared the biography of the first African- American female Senator in the third grade Biography Book talks. Following what I thought was a successful audition during the first week of camp my counselor prepared me for the probable disappointment of only being cast as a part of the chorus of farmhands. Since I was a younger camper and my audition consisted of singing a personal rendition of MmmBop and quoting lines from Home Alone things weren't looking favorable.

Finally, it was dinnertime on Thursday of audition week and my cabin mates and I enjoyed grilled-cheese and tomato soup. The mess hall quieted down as the camp director approached the podium to share the highs and lows of the day. At the end of his announcements he mentioned that the Oklahoma! cast list was posted outside the mess hall. About five minutes later I made my way through a mob of campers to find out I was cast as the male lead, Will Parker. Tears streamed down my face as I was so excited, yet confused that I had been cast as a boy!! The next few days were filled with standard camp activities, dances, Oklahoma! rehearsals and costume fittings.

As far as singing goes, I sell out concerts when I'm in the shower. I don't mind singing in groups but solo's in public are not my cup of tea. I was so relieved to find out that Will's solo had been cut since we were only performing some of the scenes from the famous musical. The last week of camp crept up so quickly and before I knew it the morning of the performance arrived. Since parents,friends and the community were encouraged to come to the show it was held at a local college theatre to accommodate a larger audience. Until the day of the performance the only place we had practiced was in the mess hall so a real stage was overwhelming! Just as we began to run through the first act, the director decided that my solo was necessary to the play's authenticity so it was added back in. I spent the rest of the rehearsal trying to re-learn the song and every moment in between I was panicked and sweating bullets. All of a sudden the audience filled the room, the overture began and the spot light was blinding....it was SHOWTIME!

Reciting my lines was a walk in the park and our performance was coming along seamlessly for a camp production, that is until the introductory music to my solo began. I was literally stuck in my boots unable to move my mouth or my body. All I could do was stand like a deer in headlights and occasionally wave to the audience. Seconds that seemed like decades passed before the female lead, an older girl in camp decided to take charge. She grabbed my hand and pulled me around the stage while singing what she knew of the song. Moments later the curtain went down and the rest of the cast filed onstage for the final number. I still couldn't move and didn't until "mommy" and three friends from home surprised me with flowers and hugs. My career in drama was officially up in flames, the girl with the credentials couldn't pull through. Thankfully it was the last day of camp and I got to return home following my flop of a performance. My favorite food, friends, flowers and movies wouldn't break my silence on my ride home from camp. I finally started to return to normalcy when one of my friends told me a rumor got started I came down with a vicious case of larengitis moments before my solo.

For the next two summers I spent a month at camp on the crystal coast of North Carolina, it was there I traded in my stage fright for a fear of heights and to this day remain a zip-line virgin.If it weren't for this nightmare on stage I wouldn't have given my next obsession a whirl--middle school politics a.k.a student council. Luckily no singing was involved but I could never say goodbye to witty one-liners and costumes.

Hope you're having a spooktacular Monday... More mayhem tomorrow!

Trick or Treat,

D.D.

The legend of the ladies room

Forget reality t.v., walk into any ladies room in a bar, restaurant or social gathering spot and you are guaranteed more entertainment than a 30-minute scripted "reality drama" could ever offer. Even if I don't have to go to the bathroom its nice to escape "the jungle" known as a bar to re-group, freshen up and chit-chat without screaming or using some sort of digital communication to talk . Its hilarious to me that men are so enamored by the goings on of the girls rest-room. Instead of leaving them out in the cold forever on this hallowed piece of ground I decided to explain a typical night in the ladies room with the help of some popular t.v. shows.

Project Runway: Even though Heidi Klum and Tim Gunn are not there to host and mentor contestants of the ladies room version of Project Runway the drama and competition is equally fierce. Uncomfortable shoes, broken dress straps, ripped tights or spills on perfectly white blouses are just a few of the possible wardrobe malfunctions that occur on an average night in the ladies room; however, there is always a girl overly-prepared with nail polish, band-aids and a tide stick to fix seemingly tragic problems! After repairs are completed, ladies still have to walk the catwalk in front of a line of other bathroom dwellers far more intimidating than the critiques of Michael Kors and Nina Garcia. Whether or not the panel of judges a.k.a the line of girls mentions there is toilet paper stuck to a ladies shoes is totally dependent on the amount of time the lady spent in the stall... One day you're in and the next day you're out!

Therapy Session: My favorite use for the ladies room! I cannot tell you how many times several of my girlfriends have crowded into the handicapped bathroom stall to wipe away unnecessary beer tears, remind someone that liquid courage is all you need or Prince Charming is in the next bar. Unfortunately the wooden panels that serve as doors on bathroom stalls are anything but soundproof. Secrets, confessions and juicy gossip spew like hot magma from a volcano for all other bathroom inhabitants to either ignore, translate or pass along to the rest of the world.

Let me remind you that all of this action occurs within the bathroom stalls... so you must be wondering what are the lovely ladies who patiently wait for their own turn in the stall doing? I call it LIVE GOSSIP GIRL: Most of them are entertaining themselves with commentary on the status of the therapy sessions, some are sharing their versions of the drama within the stalls to friends around the world thanks to cell phones. The icing on the cake is the entrance of the token "Blair Waldorf", equipped with her posse. Once these girls step foot inside, the bathroom empties like the street of an Old Western film. For the next 30 minutes Blair and her crew will participate in their own version of the therapy session, project runway and will be likely to graffiti the walls with some sort of joke or symbol that they were there.

These findings were compiled after 4 years of fieldwork in various bathrooms around the southeast. Although, I wish I could clear out a bathroom like Blair Waldorf, I was always the one wiping beer tears while being reminded no one would notice the run in my tights, stain on my shirt or remember that I had just tripped myself in front of the entire bar. "Trust me Duchess, All you need is some liquid courage! Prince Charming is waiting at the next bar!"