Outfit loosely inspired by The Waves. Blouse: Thrifted. Jeans: NY&Co. Boots: Jeffrey Campbell.
Today was spent at an all-day comedy workshop and festival. Even though my not-too-terribly secret ambition is to one day to stand-up, improv, or hell-- maybe both, I was feeling neither here nor there about going to the thing. Spontaneity is not my forte when it comes to going places.
But my brother-in-law drug me from my cave and we commenced to workshopping. First we did two hours worth of improvisational exercises, which are a ton of fun if you don't mind making an ass of yourself. I totally don't mind. Then we did an hour of learning about stand-up comedy, then practiced writing jokes around prompts. My prompt started, "I used to date a guy that worked at White Castle..."
Meow... I iz expanding my repertoire of pozez...
"...He was cute, you know, he was nice. Nice guy... but the smell he'd come home with-- steamed onions, hanging in the air, on his clothes, on his... fingers... wet meat, homelessness. It was an olfactory mess, and you know, you can only be so nice, I mean at the end, it was just not what I crave."
The rest of the evening was devoted to watching some of the local comedians and improv troupes do their thing and it was good-- actually great, I wasn't aware there was such comedic talent in my little burg! And good people, too. To be continued...?