I realized recently that I didn't see Messiah this year. I forgot about it in the chaos of the last few months. I love Messiah. I always leave with a throat sore from not singing, from holding back. Maybe next year I'll find a sing-along.

My mother sang in choirs in high school and college, then sang to me. I was probably singing before I could talk. I sang in choirs when I was young. My voice is clear and on-key and perfectly serviceable, but that's as far as it goes. I found out the hard way that I was never destined to be Andrea McArdle (Broadway's original Annie).

One of my best friends in grade school was a multi-talented kid named Rebecca. Rebecca was a cheerful girl with good manners and good grades. She and I were in our school's fifth/sixth grade chorus together. We also rode horses together and hung out in our bedrooms talking girl talk. Rebecca was good company.

We both loved chorus. I was a natural showoff, though, and I was starting to dream of performing without a chorus around me. My parents agreeably drove me to some auditions at local dinner theaters and hung out until they rejected me, thanked me and sent me home.

This became a routine for me, attending open calls and getting cut. I got to know the other kids, the ones who didn't get cut, the ones who arrived with professional portfolios, the ones who took voice lessons and three different types of dance per week. The circuit kids. Everyone has to start somewhere, I reasoned. But I didn't get cast, and I was getting self-conscious.

I finally dragged Rebecca with me to an open call for moral support and cheerleading. I introduced her to some of the other kids. The registrars signed her in along with me; we looked at each other and shrugged. Why not?

I'll tell you why not: she got the part.

If there is a more awkward, horrible situation for two sixth-grade friends to be in, I don't want to know about it. She was apologetic. I was apoplectic. It was not my finest hour.

In the end, she accepted the role, then bounced straight to La Boheme at the Kennedy Center. I never went to another open call and wrapped up my acting career with a role as a teenage druggie on a local television show.

I still love to sing. I don't need an audience. All I need is my Messiah CD and a little forebearance from the neighbors.