Pucker up!

Soooo . . . you remember that musical I told you about? Did I mention that it involves lots of romantic angst? My co-star and I are completely smitten with each other, only to find ourselves on opposite sides of the Union. He is the superintendent of all us factory workers, and I am the head of the Union's Grievance Committe. This causes terrible turmoil. It also causes lots of love scenes. Translation: I have to kiss a total stranger.

Now, my stranger happens to be a very talented, very professional guy who has lots of theatre experience under his belt and tackles these scenes like the pro he is. I, however, collapse into fits of school-girl giggles when things get mushy. Granted, we've only rehearsed the Big Intense Love Scene a few times. It goes like this . . . my Pop just left us alone in the house for the evening. Sid is trying desperately to make a move, and I'm dodging all advances with small talk. Since this is a musical, naturally he spontaneously bursts into a beautiful ballad called - you guessed it - "Small Talk." He is wooing me with lines like "I don't want to talk small talk, I've got better things for your lips to do", and I'm piping in with silly little things like "What do you think they charge for ham now?" He's kissing my hand, wrapping his arms around me, nuzzling my neck, etc., and I just keep ducking away at just the right moment. Inevitably, though, we kiss at the end of the song.

Only, we haven't actually rehearsed the kiss yet. I can't help it. It is WEIRD to be affectionate with someone other than your husband, even when your husband has given you his blessing.

I realize that I'm not the first person to have to deal with this, and probably not the first to find it awkward. I suppose I will just have to put on my big-girl panties. The one thing I am sure of is that I want to do a good job, so I have to just give it my all. We have rehearsal again tomorrow, so I'll let you know how it goes.