croak.

Imagine this view from stage; 2,700 seats.

And within a few weeks of each other, I've had my best show, and my worst show. Thank you, thank you Atlanta, for hosting my two worst shows of the year in the biggest house I've ever sang in. At 2,700 seats a pop, I completely croaked through my solo number, feeling thoroughly embarrassed and wanting to apologize to the audience afterwards. After the first show...I may have heard someone booing. They very well may have been "woofing," which some kids do in the south instead of clapping, but to my fragile sick ego, they were booing.

What are you going to do? Although I was drowning in phlegm (mmm, delicious), I did my best to pull through it. As amazing as a good show feels, that is how terrible a poor show feels. When I came on stage for my first entrance, knowing that it would be an uphill climb, I looked up and saw three enormous balconies and forgot my first line. I lost focus (terribly unprofessional of me), but eventually snapped back into it and survived. I'll chalk it all up to a learning experience and pray that the next time I have a nasty cold, I'll have a stand-by understudy so I won't feel like I'm standing naked in front of 2,700 people.

HOME IN 3 DAYS.