Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Oh my stars

Here are some fun things about being an actress:

Sometimes you get to wear the coolest clothes.

Watching TV and going to the movies are considered essential research.

And occasionally, you get to get really handsy with a hot stranger.

I started rehearsals for my next project this week. I hadn't met most of the rather large cast yet, but last night was our first dance rehearsal and musicians and actors started filing into our tiny rehearsal space several minutes before our scheduled start.

My leading man came walking in after I had settled on the floor. He was cute and muscle-y, and we gave each other a firm handshake and an appreciative, hail-fellow-young-attractive-person-well-met glance. He was also friendly, throwing me little eyebrow waggles and asking conspiratorially about how things had been going so far.

I'm not sure exactly when it happened - I guess it was creeping up on me - but I know I noticed it for sure when we started practicing our dance. He bounced up from his chair looking pleased as punch and took my hand. Zzzzzzzzing. I blushed. And I realized I was not just dealing with a cute guy, but a Hot guy.

A Hot guy is not necessarily gorgeous; it has nothing to do with looks. He just exudes pheremones. When he touches you, there is nothing tentative. It is firm and warm and strong and you feel that if you tripped, you would never hit the ground. This is the touch of a hand that you feel in your toes.

A minuet is not exactly the lambada, but this was some of the sexiest dancing I've ever done. I felt naked and didn't care. His hands on mine, his chest against my back, his eyes staring into mine... Helloooo nurse. After we finished dancing, he gently squeezed my hands and dropped to his knees in front of me while I laughed. When we stopped to speak to the choreographer, he stood with one hand wrapped possessively around the back of my neck.

The small part of my brain that wasn't purring, wondered, Is he just doing this to create chemistry between our characters? Is he also a quivering pile of hormones right now, or is he just manipulative enough to do this for the sake of the show?

This is a not-fun thing about being an actress.

We walked out together, chatting about how young we felt relative to the rest of the cast, the quality of the script, where we lived... it felt calm and friendly again, although my head was still pleasantly muddled. After less than a block, he peeled off and headed towards home, and I watched him walk away for a moment.

Suddenly, something occurred to me - his tight black t-shirt. His great jeans and funky sneakers. The fact that he smelled gently, wonderfully of honey.

Oh... dadgummit...
What if he's gay?

Argh. My job is so weird.


posted by Addy @ 4/05/2006 10:08:00 AM |


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