Last year in The Diary of Anne Frank, I was allowed to shout and scream improv for about ten seconds, and 200 people had to listen to me. It was extremely therapeutic.
There's never a good excuse to dress like a Heather in real life, but I just got to make one up last year.
Kissing total strangers (and not-so total strangers).
I never left a romantic role without a really, really good story.
Having Shakespearian monologues in my back pocket.
I came to bury Caesar. Or possibly to praise him. One of the two.
Hiding in a coffin.
For some reason I was in multiple shows where I was dead or asleep in a closed box and my introverted self thought it was the coolest thing ever.
When is my Irish dialect training going to come in handy again?
This was the first Broadway Revue number ever performed with live music, and I still see the actors I cast here as my children.
This was Margot Frank's act II look, six months + into hiding.
I really liked dying on stage.