Er, how about a hug-

You know, you can diet and exercise to look more shapely, clean up nice, therapize out of a funk, read up and edumacize yourself...but can anyone really make themselves more lovable?

I don't think so, really. Indeed.


On a semi-unrelated note, I've looked over the scripted characters I've done over the years. Starting in first grade, here's a sampling:

The Selfish Giant - title role. (first grade. Mostly because I could read)

Some play in fourth grade where I was a time traveler accused by historical/literary figures of being a liar. I wasn't a liar, but time travel is cool, and it turned out I really had a head injury. Cool.

Ludlow Fair (Lanford Wilson) - Agnes. Zhlubby single city gal, tough on the outside, with a screwy romantic center that isn't revealed till the final monologue. (College One-acts festival. Of course, I couldn't even commit to rolling my hair during the final monologue, and got the director to let me shave my legs instead, adding comic relief. Note that shaving your legs twice in two days is a bitch.)

An incredibly filthy sketch where I played a racist Ukranian dominatrix. I love this character, I do. She just wants to be famous, is that so wrong?

Glengarry Glen Ross (David Mamet) - This was a reading, to be fair. I played Williamson. In a cast of characters where most people hated each other, everyone hated Williamson. I did a fine job, indeed. I fucking love this play. Typecasting?

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