Julia Roberts

But, you know, we had rehearsed this play.

As you guys know, it goes on and on and on forever, and then all you want to do is just start the thing.

The opening night comes, and nerves are high.

Just even thinking about it, I'm getting a little short of breath.

So the play starts, Paul's on stage by himself and it's his apartment set and there's just this sort of like bare mattress, you know, apartment in New York.

And he's reading this, he's thumbing through this book and then there's a knock at the door.

open the door, and it's his sister, played by yours truly, clarinet player.

And I come in, and what's in his hand is our father's diary that he's just found.

And he's been reading it, and he's crazed, and he's manic over what he's discovered.

And he's talking about it, and he's talking about it.

And he tosses it on the bed, as he has done 9,458 times in rehearsal.

Right.

And this book skitters across the mattress, hits the front of the stage, and into the aisle.

Which is fine for the next four and a half minutes until I say, but.

Or Paul says.

Paul says it.

He picks it up.

And so we keep going, but we're looking at each other like, this has never happened before.

What happens when this happens?

Because this has never happened before.