Who knew acting could be so tiring?

I stood in front of the class last night being worked over by my drill sergeant of a professor. I gave my monologue and was pretty happy that I hadn't forgotten any of the words. Then the questions started.

"What is your goal here? What emotion are you trying to convey? What outcome are you looking for?"

I have no answer for this. I just liked the words. So now I'm on the spot and I blurt out, "Pity."

"Okay, so how do you plan on getting us to pity you?"

Me, dumb look on face. I say, "Through anger, maybe? I want to force you to pity me."
"Go ahead, then."

I do angry. Angry I am pretty good at. Pity, that's a different story. I gave it a good shot.

Then she wants me to give her more. More emotion, more action, more desperation. She tells me to concentrate on one of my classmates and really give it to her. I start, jabbing my finger in her face for emphasis. I give it as much as I know how.

"More," she says.

I yell. I jab. I scare the crap out of my classmate.

"More," she says.

I yell louder. I jab more. I pour more emotion into it.

"More," she says.

I relive every bad moment I've ever had, let loose every demon I've ever fought. I plead, I beg, I scream and accuse.

"More," she says.

Forty-five minutes later I'm a quivering mass of jumbled nerves sputtering out a litany of incoherent words. She finally tells me to sit down. Good God, was this an audition or an exorcism?

No one else got grilled like I did. They just got busted on not memorizing their parts. Over and over again, our professor drilled the importance of getting each and every word correct. At the end of the class it was just me and the professor. I say, lightly, that I have to work on my memorization for next time.

"Nonsense," she says, "You were acting. You had your character by the throat. Once that happened, the words weren't important."

Well, hell-ooooo Mrs. Contradiction! I decided to take that as a compliment and floated home.