My first role was as Sneezy, the sixth of the seven Dwarfs in my kindergarten production of Snow White (where the teacher gave herself the role of Snow White). Millie noted I had a very believable sneeze, which I learned from Lucy’s allergies and a lot of practicing.

I was the Nurse in Romeo and Juliet in fifth grade, I was a towns­person in The Crucible a year later (I switched schools halfway through the term that year); ditto Our Town a year later. I was Nick Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream because there weren’t enough boys that year and I was the only girl who wasn’t confined by gender roles.

My dream roles include: the Butler in Clue and Dorothy in The Wizard o f Oz.

But really, I’ll play anything.

I think that’s kind of key to being an artist. That level of flexibility.

Millie told me once that the stage is an example of a liminal space. Which is a space that’s between, not one thing or another. It’s the real world because it’s real people and it’s actually in the real world, not in say, space.

But it’s also a magical space. Where anything can happen. Where you can take a box and say it’s a spaceship and then it’s a spaceship, or take a kid who’s sixteen and from New Jersey and say they’re an ancient wizard.

On the stage, when the lights are on me, I can be whatever I want to be.

To prepare for an audition, when possible, I like to pretend I’m in a dressing room at a fancy Broadway theater, sitting in front of one of those mirrors with the lights all around, a bouquet of roses on my dressing table as I prep my makeup and run my lines. Obviously the bathroom on the second floor at Greenville High, the one with the door that doesn’t close and only one sink that works, is a poor substitute, but you work with what you got.

For the purpose of my stage debut at Greenville, I wore my signature orange in multiple shades of. . .orange: a set of blood-orange bell-bottom pants with heart patches on the knees, a sorbet turtleneck, and a neon-orange blazer that the salesperson at the used place where I bought it told me was once owned by a girl who worked for Lucille Ball (star of I Love Lucy and comedic genius).

Since Lucille Ball was around way before neon was chic, I was pretty sure it was a lie, but I appreciated the effort and the magic.

I’d re-dyed my hair Tangerine Madness, christening our new tub with an orange glow.

Millie said I looked like a really aggressive extra from The Mary Tyler Moore Show. Which is a retro reference that is curiously outside of my wheelhouse.