Memorizing my speech feels a lot like running lines back when I used to do children's theater. Only this time I won't have to wear a blonde wig and facial hair (I was Buffalo Bill in Annie Get Your Gun one year---there's no business like show business).
I'm still ridiculously nervous, but the more I remember of my speech the better I feel about it. It probably doesn't give off the image of unmovable professionalism that I should probably be trying for, but heck...I'd rather be real and honest on here. And hey, I'll still be a basket of raw nerves on Tuesday afternoon, but hopefully I can at least do as well as I did in those musicals. I was always a bit stiff, but I never forgot my lines or blocking.
Oh boy, though. If this is anything like theater, that means the forgotten-lines nightmares are going to make an appearance. Fun is!
I'll leave you with this image: me (tall, brown hair, slightly awkward, baby face) wearing gray face paint, a shiny silver jumpsuit and a funnel on my head. If anyone can guess what that costume was, I'll send them an ARC of something fun.