One day it just hit me. I got up on a cool September morning, gazed upon the dewy grass, and knew right there and then that I belonged on a stage. Have I ever performed? No. Did I have any talent? No. Had I ever expressed in any way some sort of sign or signal, either verbal or nonverbal, to my loved ones, or even to myself, that I had an urge to entertain? No. Was I scared? Yes. Was I nude? Yes. Am I still scared? Yes. Am I still nude? Yes. But I still did it. I picked up the phone and called Giggle Playhouse right there and then. Within a week I was standing alone in a small unfurnished room with no air conditioning, a few less hundred dollars in my bank account, a bladder full of urine and a heart racing. I was home.