DAY TWO

DAY TWO

So, we're going to jump back into the handy dandy time machine to two weeks ago on my first day of classes at Second City's summer immersion program. Picture it, a Monday in early July. The men and women live much more simply then. They still drive cars.

I awake with the dawn. Being a crazy person, I spend way too long deciding what to wear. Final decision: my lucky yellow sweater, striped shirt, and jeggings. Jeggings, they are better than sliced bread and twice as comfortable.

Note the progression of photos. The one problem with traveling alone (aside from the mind-numbing loneliness and time for introspection) is that you have no one to take photos of your loneliness except for your best friend, mirror. Oh, mirror you're the best and that bright white flash, simply a product of our love.

First picture: Feigned confidence

Second picture: Practicing my “Will you be my friend?” smile → Hey, it worked in kindergarten

Third picture: Freaked out desperation

I hop a bus to the training center and run up the escalator to my first class. This week is Improv 1 (mornings), and Writing I (afternoons). Going up the escalator, I spot all these pictures of Second City alums along the wall: Gilda Radner, John Candy, Catherine O'Hara. I am filled with the 30 Rock Tina Fey line, “I want to go to there.” Then, I realize I am there, here. Cue: Delightful hysteria and well-covered panic.

We're divided into classes and I find myself with about 9 other Nervous Nellies. We introduce ourselves and I can already tell that I like these peeps. Our teacher is the delightful Micah with a spring in his step and a clever yet profound saying in his mouth (that last part sounded weird). But, anyhoo we jump right into games etc. I don't have much time to take notes; but, here is what I grasp.

1. Everything everyone (including me) says is awesome!
2. Never say no, always say yes...and...
3. Every mistake is a gift
4. If every mistake is a gift, then my life is Christmas

We break for lunch and a group of us heads over to Boston Market where I proceed to eat a chicken. About half of us pile back into Second City for our afternoon writing class with Andy Miara, another wise man and I must mention another comedy genius. Here is what I grasp from this afternoon's class.

1. Comedy writing is not about just writing jokes, it's about writing relationships
2. Get up and go for it/write it/act it...who the hell cares (aside from my mother)
3. At Second City, shows are written through improvisation → which means they generate many scenes and then test them with an audience
4. A comedy writer needs to develop an ear for an audience → how and why do jokes land? How and why do scenes succeed?
5. The RELATIONSHIP is the key to coherently building an emotional and yes humorous story
6. Once you find your hook (what's working) push and heighten → I imagine this to be like funny child birth
7. You don't have to have all the answers when you start writing something → let the scene work with you
8. We want to see TRANSFORMATION: characters and situations that are dynamic and always changing emotionally

By the end of the day, my mind is filled to capacity. I end up walking back to the hotel (2 miles) just so I can decompress. I grab a Panera's salad, baguette, and huge ass chocolate chip cookie and pass out on my bed. Today was amazing, but I definitely feel like I'm in the deep end of the comedy pool and I forgot my floaties.

DAY ONE

Hello friends.  Prepare to jump into your trusty ol' time machine! Because of my freakish procrastination, the next several posts are going to take you back into the not-so-distant-past to the first few days of my Chicago, NYC, Boston extravaganza. But, first Chicago, where it all began!


Here I am right before hopping into the car for a quick jaunt to SFO airport. Note the awesome camoflage bag my dad picked out for my early b-day present. Yes, your eyes do not deceive it has a rockin' pink stripe. At first, I thought it would be too big, but it ended up being the perfect schlep-around messenger/minivan (seriously I could carry a toddler in this thing). My dad actually found it at the Sports Basement, and hid it underneath a pile of ski gear just so no one else would grab it before I could ok it. I love my pops; he is both sneaky and thoughtful!

At SFO, I got to fly out of the newest terminal, Terminal 2 via Virgin Air. The terminal is super green (aka ecologically aware). I was just bummed because I misjudged my takeoff time by over 40 minutes! Ooops! So, I got to literally run through the terminal while attempting to purchase a cinnamon-apple scone (a girl has got to eat) and it was not until I was walking the plank to the plane that I realized that I was about to fly with my fly unzipped. I now feel much closer to Terminal 2.

I hate to fly, but the flight was pretty easy. I watch a-lotto television. Where else can you watch 4 hours of Real Housewives of New York City with impunity? I'm trapped in a metal bird, a captive audience. I was supposed to land and go straight to Second City to see a show, but I had forgotten about one thing: the Gay Pride Parade. It took me almost 2 hours to reach my hotel room and I didn't even get to see the parade :(  I was staying in the Lakeview area at a hotel called the Willows. Here is a picture of my hallway, which I swear looks like a scene out of the Shining. I get chills just looking at it (REDRUM!)

Once I got in my room, I was seriously so exhausted that I didn't even know what to do with myself. So, I ate this giant ass cookie that I nicknamed Pangea (the supercontinent). It really helped and it really looked like Pangea.

 Before bed, I brushed my teeth and combed my hair and placed this ironing board under my door as a means of preventing would be intruders. You know, just the typical things.

Goodnight moon. Goodnight pangea. Hello Chicago!

Let's Take This Show on the Road

Have I mentioned that I'm a terrible traveler? I mean terr-i-ble. When I told KD, my best friend from college, that I was going to Chicago for two weeks by myself, she literally said to me, "How's that going to work? You're a terrible traveler." 

See, I didn't walk till I was 2. I didn't learn how to ride a bike until I was 10. I didn't get my license till I was 23. On my way back from studying abroad in London I almost ended up in Trinidad. True story. I make silly-stupid mistakes when I travel. I forget my native tongue. I drop things, heavy things. I lose scarves (hello Heathrow airport circa 2004). I leave my fly unzipped and then walk down the aisles of planes smiling. I really don't know how to get a move on.

So, when it came time for me to pack for this trip, I had to mean business. 

3 weeks + 3 cities = 1 carry on bag and freakishly large "purse/personal item"

The big picture (minus 3 button up shirts that were in the wash)...holla!

A tapestry of over-packing...and pineapple floristry...

My bling with an elephant theme.

I decided to bring some comfort flicks for the trip. I have netflix, but sometimes a gal needs some portable coping mechanisms. What did I pick?

1. Funny Face: A gawky young lady travels abroad

2. Almost Famous: A gawky young man travels abroad with rock stars

3. The Trouble with Angels: Two gawky young women get in trouble in a nunnery

4. Sabrina: A gawky young lady travels abroad and becomes Audrey Frickin' Hepburn

5. The Sound of Music: A gawky young nun travels abroad,finds love, avoids Nazi, meets some orphans -> Good times all around

6. The Music Man: A dapper traveling salesman travels and takes a small town by storm

7. Now, Voyager: Betty Davis has a nervous break down, travels abroad, and comes back Betty Frickin' Davis

8. African Queen: An awkward minister's sister and an awkward drunk travel down an African River...and fall in lurve

9. Tangled: An awkward long haired lady breaks out of her tower and has a good time doing it

9. Elaine Stritch: The most amazingly talented bad ass ever performs...travels across a stage...remains a badass while doing so

MMMMM do we se a trend? What are your favorite motivational flicks?

How I Got Here

Currently, I'm spending two weeks in Chicago in a Second City Summer Immersion. Yes, I am immersed. Like many people who find themselves immersed, I have little time for blogging, my fingers are pruny, and I find it hard to breathe. So here is the first in a series of lessons that I have learned over the past few weeks.

        Photo I took on my way to the wrong terminal...

The Journey to Chicago

Things I learned today:

1. Never ever forget to triple check your departure time

2. Always make sure you've got the right terminal

3. There is nothing that a scone can't fix

4. Turbulence is when airplanes bust a move. Watching Real Housewives for three hours will make you lose your faith in humanity

6. Kind cab drivers will restore it. Thanks Jim :)

Introduction to Canary Yellow

Like almost everyone I know who has ever tried to start a blog, I come at this thing for a second time. I just couldn't seem to get my act together. Because in the past, I didn't (and still maybe don't) know who I am, let me first introduce myself by what I now know I believe in. 


I believe in laughter. I'm talking belly laughs and guffaws. I believe in laughing till you cry and crying till you laugh. I believe in eating, and conversation, and whenever possible combining the two without choking. I believe in winks, and nods, and hi-fives, and silly dances. I believe in baked goods. I believe in personification. I believe in kindness and friendship and generosity of spirit. I believe in dignified riots. I believe in postcards, and graffiti. I believe in punchlines and puns and silly-silly words. I believe in comedy and carbs. I believe in yellow, canary yellow.


What is canary yellow you ask? It's a philosophy that I am stealing from the wisest of lyricists, Mr. Oscar Hammerstein.  Simply sung, "When the sky is a bright canary yellow, I forget every cloud I've ever seen."  This blog is going to be filled with things that make me feel canary yellow and I hope that they make you feel canary yellow too :)