(So Not) Ready for My Close-up, Mr. DeMille

I am not photogenic. I am, in fact, whatever the hell is the opposite of photogenic. If I'm lucky, I take an okay picture. Which might explain why I'm not looking forward to tonight's publicity photos. It's my first time. The Playhouse always takes archive photos on Preview Night, but those are a piece of cake, action shots, as close to candid as staged photos can be. This is different. These are the photos that will go to the papers, expressly to entice people to come see the show. Yeahhhh. Pictures of me, making the play look fun and worth the money. Aiyeeee.

And then there's the whole costume anxiety issue. This will be my first view of my costume. After tonight, I can stop imagining how hard it will be to climb up on a headboard, crawl into a rabbit hole and roll on the ground while wearing a 1920s-era dress. After tonight, I'll be able to picture exactly how fun it will be to be dragged across the floor, bounce on a bed and jump off a toybox--while wearing a 1920s-era dress.

Why is it I do this again? Oh, yes. Because it's fun. I am so in need of an attitude adjustment.