Connie

Four foot ten, that’s the story of my life. I remember when everybody was my size. Boy, that was great. But then everyone started moving up and – there I was, stuck at four foot ten. But I kept hoping and praying, I used to hang from a parallel bar by the hour, hoping I’d stretch just an inch more. ‘Cause I was into dancing then, and I was good. And I wanted so much to grow up to be a prima ballerina. Then I went out for ...

CHEERLEADER! And they told me: “No dice, you’ll get lost on the football field. The pompoms are bigger than you.” I spent my whole childhood waiting to grow. But you see, the only thing about me that grew was my desire. I was never gonna be Maria Tallchief, I was just this peanut on pointe! That was my whole trip – my size. It still is.

God, my last show I was thirty-two and I played a fourteen-year-old brat. Yeah, and I’m thirty-two... But I don’t look it. And I shouldn’t knock it ‘cause I’ve always been able to work.