After I finished performing the script, I stepped back from the microphone, disgusted with myself. My performance was weak, vague and just plain sucky. It’s a day where I wonder how I’ve made a living for this long doing something I’m just not that good at. Then the director switches on their “talk-back” button. The engineer and producers are laughing in the background and the director tells me I was perfect. They love me… What the hell just happened?
I like an adventure. So I followed the white rabbit down the digital hole and spent three days in an anime underworld. I had tea with the Mad Hatter (or rather Irish Car Bombs with Troy Baker), traded witticisms with the Cheshire Cat (randy jokes with Chris Patton), and generally got “wonderfully” confused with the Frog Footman and the Queen of Hearts (my late-night guides Steve [funny British guy without a last name] and Christine Ruggles [sardonic rebel who's really just a kind sweetheart]).
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