The following is like a Christmas letter, only with boobs.
It started when I was 15 or 16: a perpetual discomfort at having my photo taken. No, I’m not some kind of international spy or superhero. I wish.
In the moments after, I swore that I was an ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE PERFORMER and I WAS NEVER DOING THIS NUMBER AGAIN.
Let the record show that ladies who take their clothes off are not bad people.
On the twelfth day of Hot Christmas, my producer gave to me…
I’m not one for the daily Facebook posts of gratitude. Nothing wrong with it, they’re just not my deal. But as I reflect on my holiday solo debut last Friday, prepare for an audition tomorrow (suddenly, I’m someone who goes to auditions again!) and get ready to put on my civilian clothes and head to […]
Gather ’round, while I explain the art of being a stage kitten.
Public nudity doesn’t scare me. Many other things do.