In mid-July, I auditioned for a film starring Cameron Diaz and Ashton Kutcher. Cut to a few days ago when I found out that I got the part! My first feature film! And, it's my signature line limit: two! Plus, I'd be playing those lines opposite Ashton Kutcher, which could easily have led to an impromptu make-out session. Yes, I know he's married, but can't I harass him sexually and then claim I was "punking" him? Regardless, the question is moot because the movie films on a Tuesday and Wednesday during previews, and the powers that be won't let me take off those shows.

My mother tried to help me plead my case: "Why won't they let you take off? You have such a small part!" Truthfully, I don't even know how I could do a contemporary movie with my crazy seventies hairstyle. A girl named Camille, who only knows me from my Sirius radio show, came to my Chatterbox this week, and when I walked in, her mom told me that she exclaimed, "He looks like John Travolta!" I don't think she meant "Pulp Fiction" John, I think she meant Tony Manero John. Hmm.... maybe I could get a gig if they do a sequel to "Stayin' Alive" ("Barely Alive: Still Kickin'"?)

Anyhoo, I'm writing this column from my Studio 54 dressing room. We are in the middle of "ten out of twelve" rehearsals, meaning we have to keep twelve hours free and work for ten of those hours. It's essentially X-treme Tech. There's that old chestnut that goes, "If Hitler were alive today, I would make him be in a musical during its out-of-town tryout." I will amend that to say that he should be in the middle of tech rehearsal for said musical. People, it's brutal! We have an opening scene that consists of around 15 lines. We teched that mother for hours! Caroline Aaron, who plays Vivian, told me that beginnings and ends of acts take forever to tech. She did The Sisters Rosensweig and said that Act One ended with one of the sisters opening up a present and saying a line. It took one whole day of tech to do it!

The beginning of The Ritz is the one scene that's not in a bathhouse. It's an Italian deathbed scene, and Joe Mantello put me in it as one of the mourners. I play the hunky Italian Stallion in a pair of tight jeans. Oh, I'm sorry, I mean I play an Italian grandmother in a shapeless black dress and veil! That's right, I'm debuting on Broadway in old lady drag. And, my religious Jewish Mother will be so proud to hear me say my first lines on Broadway: "Hail Mary, full of Grace..." Just in time for Rosh Hashanah.

The sound cues by our celebrated sound designer Tony Meola are so cool! Every cue is a delicious seventies classic: "Love to Love Ya, Baby," "Macho Man" and my favorite, "Mama Told Me Not To Come," where the amazing Scott Pask Bathhouse set is revealed and all the guys flock on. I feel like I'm in a musical whenever we run it, it's so fun! I'm wearing an amazing seventies pants suit with a belt, and when I walked by the always-dry Joe Mantello, he greeted me with "Hey, Sally Jesse." Then, I had to get into my next costume. I saw what looked like a hand towel, and suddenly realized that the white swatch of fabric was the towel I was supposed to wear around my waist! The other boys in the cast have waists that begin with a 2 (28, 29. etc.). I haven't been in the twenties since I was in my teens. I was horrified, but finally decided to bite the bullet and put it on. Though skimpy, it got around my middle. David Turner is in the cast, and we spend the whole time backstage gabbing and laughing. I showed him my "costume" and asked him, "Do you think I can get away with this? With my fatness?" He said that that was a horribly phrased question, because if he says yes, he's essentially saying that my fatness is sufficiently masked, and if he says no, it means that my fatness does not allow me to "get away with it." True 'dat. My dresser turned me around and assured me that I looked good, and then Brooks Ashmanskas walked by and complimented my upper body. Hmm, I thought . . . maybe all that working out paid off! I felt a surge of confidence as I came onstage and walked around the bathhouse strewn with Adonises in skimpy towels: Why was I so scared? I still got it!

I arrived the next day, and my dresser told me that it's been requested that I wear a bathrobe. I guess I do still got it: and by "it," I mean a slew of love handles. Whatever! I have the "character" track. I decided to own the bathrobe and "make it my own." I tucked one side of the bathrobe in my belt, which gives me an amazing slit down the side. I showed it to William Ivey Long, and we both decided it looks like the dress Lucille Ball wore when she made a special appearance at the Oscars. Anybody?

Speaking of David Turner, he had a five-minute break to go to the bathroom, which was ruined by Ryan Idol walking in and using the next urinal. Suddenly, David's bodily function was unable to function. Suffice it to say, his bladder was suddenly more shy than Carol Burnett was during Once Upon a Mattress.

By the way, with all my complaining about my two lines, I've literally said both wrong in rehearsal. Instead of "Careful, Googie," I said, "Watch it, Googie," and instead of "We're busy," I said, "We're resting." Maybe I need to downsize to one line.

This week my friend Jack Plotnick is visiting me. He's here to do an East Coast version of his amazing acting workshops. First of all, if you can ever attend one of his classes, high thee! Secondly, if you have an audition coming up, get to his website (jackplotnick.com) and read his section about affirmations. All you have to do is release your need — like "I release my need to impress" or "I release my need to be funny." It sounds kinda stupid and new age-y, but it really works! I released my need to have six-pack abs, and now look at me! They're nowhere to be seen. Continued...