As a child (7? 8?), I sang (solo) a song called, "I Am A Promise" in front of a bunch of kids and parents at a church-group function. I recall feeling like a real star that day; no embarassment, no self-conciousness.

As a freshman in high school, I auditioned for the Fall production of "Annie." Being a child of the '80s, I had harbored not-so-secret fantasies of being part of the orphan chorus. I longed to don the adorable orphan rags, to holler, "Yeeees Miss Hannigan," to sing, "It's A Hard-Knock Life." My audition was abysmal, as I had turned into an alto somewhere along the way (and the orphans range was definitely soprano) and I suddenly found I could not dance for shit. My waiflike friend Michelle got the part and I settled for obsessively watching rehearsals from the balcony after school.

As a sophomore, soon to be a junior, in high school, I auditioned for a summer play at a neighborhood church. It was a musical called "Noah's Animals," a play originally written for adults, but adapted by our music director so it was more appropriate for kids. I was Mrs. Rabbit. I had one solo and two duets. I felt silly and totally self-conscious. But I had a blast anyway.

The closing night of "Noah's Animals" is the night I found the lump in my neck which turned out to be cancer. I never did any more theater, but I don't think that the two factors had anything to do with each other. It is just a coincidence.