Opening night for a first time actress

I clenched my hand around the doorknob backstage and listened hard for my cue.

I was a theater virgin and I was ready to get it over with. There was a lump in my throat, my feet felt like icicles and I couldn't stop shuffling from side to side.

Here are just a few of the things that ran through my mind: "Will my nurse's hat fall off? What if I forget to say something? God, I hope people showed up." And, perhaps the scariest thought, "Man, I wish I had peed earlier!"

Fortunately, everything turned out fine when I made my acting debut in a production of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" at the Shoestring Theatre on March 12. In fact, it was better than fine.

People laughed at just the right moments and gave all the actors a standing ovation.

I have a small part as Nurse Flinn, a mousey Catholic, who is afraid of the mental patients.

But in the end the audience made all the difference.

After all, actors don't get together for a play that no one's going to see. It's the interaction--a give and take--that makes the sacrifice of countless nights of rehearsal worthwhile.

And speaking of sacrifice, even a small part like mine (with about five lines) requires a lot of effort. I've essentially been living in my car these days, commuting 77 miles several days a week (including to work and the theater), eating lots of fast food on the way and not getting home until 11 p.m.

At home, my dishes pile up and a lonely beau sends me a text message, saying he misses going out for sunset bike rides with me.

Acting in community theater requires a lifestyle change. In exchange there are nights of laughter and new friendships that make it worth the effort.

There's even a bit of self-discovery. Typically shy and not much of a public speaker, my journey into theater taught me that I'm capable of so much more.

An Opening Scream

Back stage on opening night, we began our nightly ritual: a crew of almost 20 people stand in a circle, holding hands, with eyes closed. One person chosen by the director starts "The Squeeze," a quick hand clasp that gets passed around to energize our team.

"Places. Places everybody," someone calls out. My heart races until ReeAnn Robinson, a veteran actress playing Nurse Ratched, gives me a tight hug.

She pats the side of my arm and plainly says what all actors need to say to each other before going into the silence of our big, gut-turning wait: "Break a leg."

My first scene is smooth. Later, my character, Nurse Flinn, tries to escape the harassing clutches of McMurphy, the main character and rebel. Flinn fights him, letting out a scream -- something she had never done all those nights of rehearsal.

My heart is pounding from nerves and then I realize, it's okay. It worked. Laughter blasted from the audience as the nervous nurse ran to her station.

By 10:30 p.m. on Friday the 13th most of us were on an emotional high despite having already worked eight or more hours at our day job.

We all raved about how well it went and complimented each other. Hugs went all around.

"It's addicting, isn't it?" asked Sally Daykin, the director of our show.

I know it's true now. There is a phantom acting bug that bites.

Becoming An Actor

My journey began in January when an editor suggested that I audition for the "Cuckoo's Nest" adaptation, written by Dale Wasserman.

Several things lined up: my last name is pronounced Coo-coo-lee-ahn-skee (and people call me Cucu), my tag line for my Three8six.com blog is "Cucu's Nest" and I'm a fan of Ken Kesey, the author of the novel that was also adapted for the Oscar-winning 1975 film.

I had to at least audition.

If anything, I figured it would make good fodder for this blog. Instead, it was life changing. (See what my audition was like by clicking here.)

Arriving at the loony bin that is the "Cuckoo's Nest," was like getting thrown to the wolves. I felt incredibly awkward trying to figure out who my character was when everyone else had developed their own.

Most people knew what they were doing by the time I dropped in about two weeks into rehearsals.

Moreover, I hadn't even considered Nurse Flinn as a person until someone told me to think about Flinn's back story.

Dan Blazi, a police officer and actor, offered this piece of advice: "What you want to try to do is continue to discover your character."

Flinn could be a young woman, fresh out of nurse's school. A devout Catholic virgin. An innocent woman who is trying to fight a subconscious temptation against the flirtatious and scary McMurphy.

After thinking about Flinn in those terms, it clicked. I know who she is now, but have also decided she's more than a character in a play.

She's part of my own back story too -- a story that I'm still discovering with every day.