atr

during my senior year of high school, our fall musical was 'little shop of horrors'. i was unfamiliar with the movie or the broadway musical, but my friends said i'd be great as the voice of the plant. when auditions came around, i was perhaps a little over-confident that i would get the part; i didn't practice much, i just went out and recited some of oogey boogey's lines from 'the nightmare before Christmas' and then sang a few bars of 'seventy-six trombones', all in the richest baritone voice i could do.
and sure enough, when roles were posted at 9 a.m. some morning, i was 'the voice of audrey 2'.

i was taking voice lessons at the time and so spent many hours with dr rothlisberger, practicing breathing, pronunciation, and learning all of the correct notes to pseudo-post-modern classics as 'feed me' and 'supper time' [sadly, 'mean green mother from outer space' is not in the broadway play]. and i got pretty good. during rehearsals, i would stand just offstage, saying my lines into an at&t operator headset while one of my friends was inside the giant plant costume. i sang all of the notes on key and followed what was written, doing the best i could. and it was fine.

then, just a day before our final dress- and techincal rehearsal, i thought, 'dang it, i've got this awesome role and i'm probably doing it rather blandly, to be honest. heck with it, i'm doing it how i want.'
and i let loose.
i screamed. i yelled. i swung my voice everywhere it could go. i didn't get every note pitch-perfect, but i probably wasn't as on as i thought before, and now i at least had attitude.
and i was having a lot of fun, too.
and while i was doing all of this, our director had suddenly run up from the auditorium and was now right in my face, jumping up and down and making every known sign, symbol, and leap for 'YES YES YES!!!'

that turned out well.