The first night you walk down to a comedy club, at least for me, I had my voice, and then I went on stage and I lost it.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I lost my voice for the first time. I was so bummed out, but it happens to every singer at some point in their career. I don't think most people understand, but I sing every night and sometimes we do five shows in a row, which is really bad for your voice.
Once, and only once, I walked on stage and my mind went utterly blank! I had no idea why I was there! My fellow actors had to rescue me. I was very young and new to the business, so I'm glad it didn't give me stage fright for the rest of my life!
I fell off stage and bruised some ribs. The worst part was that the audience didn't realize I was gone.
My voice went recently, never happened before, off like a tap. I had to sit in silence for nine days, chalkboard around my neck. Like an old-school mime. Like a kid in the naughty corner. Like a Victorian mute.
I couldn't talk to people face to face, so I got on stage and started screaming and squealing and twitching.
When I started, I was doing all the good comedians I'd ever seen. Then I developed my own voice. My routines are my natural way of looking at the world.
First I lost my voice, then I lost my figure and then I lost Onassis.
As an adolescent, I was painfully shy, withdrawn. I didn't really have the nerve to sing my songs on stage, and nobody else was doing them. I decided to do them in disguise so that I didn't have to actually go through the humiliation of going on stage and being myself.
In retrospect, I can see I couldn't talk to people face to face, so I got on stage and started screaming and squealing and twitching about. Ha! Like, that sure made sense!
When a music teacher that I had at school was taken ill and we had a variety show and I had to fill in - that's when I realized I had a voice.