“To dream of caramel”

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August was entirely too hot to even get bothered.

That’s saying something. But as we’re rounding the bend on the tail end of it, things are shifting again under the Texas sun.

* * *

Tonight kicks off the 10th annual Out of Bounds Comedy Festival. (Essentially, SXSW for the comedy set.) I bought a fancypants badge so I can see everything, including (and especially) Boom Chicago! BOOM. CHICAGO! Remember a million years ago when I used to work for them? Passing out flyers? Drinking margaritas in a Dutch bar? Meeting tourists and seeing shows and all the subsequent hilarity that ensued?

Me, neither! But the fuzzy memories I have of it are epic. EPIC.

I have a tentative schedule mocked up. Fingers crossed I follow it and not flake out in a puddle of exhaustion midway. I’m juggling freelance deadlines this week and the return of the ZOMBIE TOOTH as well, so we’ll see.

Kick-off w/ You’re Not My Real Dad at The Hideout tonight at 8!

Busy Bodies

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Any of those pesky remaining gutterflies are getting crushed by my higher-self head fingers.

That’s the last I’ll ever say about that.

* * * * *

Oh look, THIS again.

green juice

Turns out the Depth Charge at The Daily Juice is 1000000x better than the green energy drink at Whole Foods.

1. It’s COLD. Serving this green muck up room temperature is an affront to humanity.
2. Well, actually there is no # 2, but listing just #1 doesn’t really work.

Apparently eating fast food and any/everything fried or covered in berries and cream for a couple of weeks straight isn’t very good for you. Did I say apparently? I meant, allegedly. So I’m feeding my body green muck because it’s good for me. Allegedly.

Things are looking up.

  • * Lonestar Deathstar won our match night and now it’s on to the FINALS on Saturday.
  • * Sold our iPhones for cash money on ebay and now there’s a fancy new bottle of Prada Candy that will shortly be MINE.
  • * Book two of A Song of Ice and Fire, Clash of Kings (AKA — A Game of Thrones, part two) is amazeballs.
  • * Bossypants, however, wasn’t.
  • * My sister SOLD the Armadillo and with that, goes a big NOLA memory.
  • * This means I’ll probably be visiting NOLA in the next few weeks to soak it in before it goes.
  • * Still not a passport vacation, though. And the lack of that still sucks.
  • * Deadlines are being rocked and names are being taken.
  • * Baked banana bread last night. Haven’t baked in MONTHS, so it’s kind of a big deal.

  
That’s about it. I’m working tonight and missing my improv class, but that’s what happens. Big girl pants, y’all.

“Come and find your kind”

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Some days, listening to Arcade Fire makes me want to drink ice-cold canned beer in the passenger seat of a car speeding to a sandy destination. Speakers blaring, windows down and the smell of the sea bleeding through the asphalt.

asphalt sky screamer

This day is not one of those days. These voices and these melodies are mixing in my belly and my brains like the saddest soundtrack to a misspent summer.

Keeping the lyrics locked in my mouth.

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Well, hello.

So I signed up for that awesome Jill Bernard three-day workshop and only made it to one class. Why only one day? Tuesday night, while we were working out the VAPAPO (Voice/Attitude/Posture/Animal/Prop/Obsession) method and finding voices in various body parts and singing and shouting and generally making with the awesome, I pulled a stitch out of my still-healing, still-painful gums.

And that sucker HURT.

I spent the last hour of class trying not to talk very loudly and under the influence of some extra-strong narcotics. Pain continued to plague me and my inability smile/laugh/eat all week so I sat out the rest of the session and felt really lame about it. But lucky for me, that one day was awesome and totally worth the price of admission.

My regularly scheduled Coldtowne classes started this week, too. The Harold. THE HAROLD. I’m really excited about it, and my instructors are both awesome and they came into class swinging with concepts (and one, with a chart!) and I can’t say how the other seven weeks are going to go, but we’re off to a running start. (I say “instructors” because I’m determined to attend class Mondays *and* Tuesdays to get the most out of it. IT’S THE HAROLD, Y’ALL.)

Wait … this post, this whole post is supposed to be about what I learned in the JB workshop and already I’m not doing it right.

Here’s a giant photo that captures the four-quadrants of the body theory that I’m going to practice the shit out of because it really opened up my mind to the range of potential physicality on stage:

4 quadrants

The arrows there are meant to show how if you move your body in the forward/backward (outward/inward) directions of each quadrant, it designates what you’re projecting.

Head high and forward? Intellect.
Head back and down? Imbecility.

Chest high and out? Confidence/Love.
Shoulders curled under? Insecurity/Rejection.

Your pelvis? Sensuality.

Feet wide and planted? Grounded/Strong.
Moving your feet? Joy/Playfulness.

Now the actors among us probably knew this already. But I’m a writer, and I didn’t.

Go into scenes with these atributes, and you know what you are. Your scene partner can “recognize the shape” and name it. And name you, because as much as I keep hearing and being reminded to name my scene partner, I can’t hear it enough. The audience doesn’t care about characters who don’t have names. Also, names make it easier to call back scenes. “Hey LADY!” is a name as much as “Hey, ARCHIE!” is a name.

Golden advice and worth the cash and the pain.

I looked back at this journal and it looks like I’ve been dealing with this zombie tooth since December. DECEMBER. Last night I was up all night after 2:26 a.m. (like my specificity?) sucking on popsicles and pain pills. NO. FUN.

This weekend looks like a weekend of soft food and smoothies and staying out of this infernal heat. AND THE COLDTOWNE IMPROV FANTASY LEAGUE! How could I forget to pimp that??

Accidents will happen

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Dear blog,

Oh I went and did it again, didn’t I? I got all wrapped up IRL and ignored the 010011011011101s until those 01011010011101101s threatened me in the way only they can and I became overwhelmed.

This “getting overwhelmed” business parallels with so many other things in my life, so I’d like to say it’s a one-time thing, but I don’t want to lie.

  • I had gum surgery.
  • I finished level three.
  • I pulled my back
  • Troupon played and lost (by ONE vote!) Cagematch.
  • I started practicing with the IFL.
  • I had an impossible flat tire.
  • I got new boots.
  • My dad celebrated a birthday. (I’m always grateful for these.)
  • I fell down, really hard.
  • My A/C went out and had to be replaced. WHOA, that was expensive.
  • I ate curdled cereal on accident.
  • I drank a lot of champagne.
  • I had a weird run-in with a cop that might not actually be a cop, in plain clothes wearing a balaclava in 107 heat.
  • I started reading Game of Thrones.
  • I missed out on the level three showcase because of a handful of the above.
  • I start a new intensive this week with Jill Bernard.
  • I had coffee. Lots of coffee. Lots of coffee with interesting conversation.
  • I slept. A lot.
  • And then didn’t.  A lot.

 

All that is happening/happened. Some of it I’ll go into detail about. Most of it I won’t.

But I’ll be back soon, I swear it. Here’s a pretty picture. Forgive me?

IMG_1469

 

Love and watermelons,

Terry

Let’s put a pin in that.

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coldtowne theater austin improv


I’m just going to jump right on in:

Remember how I was all, “Oh don’t go telling me to play ditzy, dammit!” in the last post? I voluntarily went there today. Twice, I think. I immediately felt bad because I think this is what my instructor meant by having this character in my toolbox, but then Bill Arnett mentioned something about his side coaching and not wanting it to be confused with choice coaching. And that nailed it on the head. I don’t want to be told to play something a certain way because it’s what someone else wants to see. I want to be shown the choices I have with the characters and encouraged to get at their points-of-view because they’re valid.

I think this makes me sound like a petulant “But I WANT to wait tables forever! What’s wrong with waiting tables??” high school senior who gets told to go to college and then later decides to go only because “it’s my choice!!!” Which, really, may be one in the same and two paths to the same destination. (Sometimes I’m stubborn. That’s right, sometimes.)

A good chunk of the intensive was about playing scenes real. Giving a reasonable representation of real life with real depth. Being okay with having the reactions one would normally have to whatever character is in front of you. And if it’s a fantasy world you’re playing in, make sure to define the rules of the reality of the fantasy.

“The engine of improv is fueled by the logic of morons.” — B. Arnett.

The jury needs evidence. Give more details than you think you should. The audience isn’t going to go, “Oh I already figured she was a dim-witted, small-town guidance counselor. Why did she say AS YOUR GUIDANCE COUNSELOR? Great, that just ruined it for me.” That’s not going to happen. Giving details cleans up the scene. Brings black and white television to hi-def.

And make sure it’s shown/told/expressed more than walking out and saying, “Oh, I’m so messy!” Instead, talk about the pile of dirty laundry on the bed and the week’s worth of take-out boxes reeking in the sink. And the flies. Maybe even the fact that you have five cats and don’t own a vacuum cleaner AT ALL. Show and tell. Show and tell. Show and tell.

Something that really resonated with me: Many problems in a scene can be fixed by your scene partner calling them out.


Not enough info?

    Call it out.


Weird/Absurd response?

    Call it out.


Character not acting “right” given the situation? (Wait, you’re happy to hear great-grandma died? WHY?)

    Call it out.

 

Brilliant, right? THE MAN IS BRILLIANT. I can’t wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow will be even MORE. And bonus? This workshop has a show.

***

Tonight I get to spend time with the crew celebrating Alicia’s birthday. And I’m going to give that wonderful woman a shout-out so she can see this next time she checks out the blog. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEAUTIFUL!!

alicia

“Anything but time”

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So I’ve been absent again. Health got me down again (shocker!) but I’m on my way back up.

IMG_1317

Here’s my improv breakdown in digest form for past SEVEN DAYS I’ve been a-missin’:

    I DIDN’T BREAK IMPROV! My back-to-back shows sitting in with The Sit-In w/ Stool Pigeon and Dr. Doctor went better than I expected them to. I didn’t even fall down.I followed that up with class on Monday (brilliant!) and class on Tuesday (stop telling me to play a ditzy person, dammit!).

    I signed up for yet another workshop. (The Dramatic Improv workshop at The Hideout with Roy and Kareem).

    I was drafted into the IFV (Improv Fantasy League). LONESTAR DEATHSTAR — fear the force, y’all.

And then after all of that awesomeness, I got sick. This stupid immune system with its stupid not being 100% and making me miss WORK which takes away from my vacation hours which means I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE THIS YEAR. Oh, I’m sorry. I’m yelling. I get really, really angry with myself, which in turn, makes me not treat my body with kindness, which perpetuates the cycle. I gave up on the cleanse and chose gin, instead. Wise choice? My blog says NO. But my blog is partial to vodka.

Tomorrow (!) starts the two-day Scene Work Assault Bill Arnett workshop. Which I’m super pumped for. Since it seems that most of the experienced improvisors I mentioned in the Craig Uhlir intensive are also taking this workshop, I’ll probably explode in a burst of nerves. But I’m going to channel that shit. CHANNEL IT.

(Or fall down.)

LINDSAY the AWESOME took this because she’s awesome. Did I mention her awesomeness already? If not, SHE’S AWESOME:

***

My friend Jeremy (who’s in TROUPON) started an improv blog called Improv Throwdown. Check it out.

“All of the Lights”

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Two posts in one day? Not hardly. But back-to-back postings? YES.

Look at this GIANT photo of this healthy crap I forced myself to drink. It looks toxic. It tastes toxic. It’s supposed to be good for me.

CLEANSING SUCKS. Also, mental note, if your cleansing routine means eating whole, natural foods, staying away from dairy and meat and caffeine and sugar and alcohol, try not to go out for antelope tartare while sucking back Harvey Wallbangers after class with Lindsay. Just sayin’.

I have more things to say about improv. Deal with it.

Last week I took a group workshop taught by Craig Uhlir, who plays/teaches at Second City and IO in Chicago and has an all-around reputation for hilarity and improv-awesomeness. Whenever I take workshops (and I’m a bit of a workshopaholic) I’m always nervous about who else is taking it, whether I’m bringing the class down by being the least-experienced improvisor, whether I’m going to be shamed and berated for breaking improv, etc.

This particular workshop was exactly this, times 129,033. Because not only were most of participants graduates and regular, incredible performers in their own right, my instructors were taking the workshop. Krilov from level one, (the! most! excellent!) Ratliff from level two (and who am I kidding, pretty much most of level three) and Coldtowne faculty I haven’t even met yet.

It was a four-hour workshop, which I didn’t realize (I kept waiting for him to cut us off, every few minutes, after the two-hour mark) and I learned so much.

But you know, the thing with me learning so much? I STILL IMMEDIATELY FORGET. Ugh with this goldfish memory bringing me down all the time. I took notes as soon as I could (hello nifty, new journal shout out!), but I could actually feel important things slipping away as I was trying to get it all down.

What stuck with me:

    If you’re nervous, think about group work in fractions. If there are six of you on stage, you’re responsible for 1/6. (Hey look, MATH IN REAL LIFE.)

    If a scene is happening (in my case, this pretty much applies to shows and exercises, too.), think about it like a freight train. The longer you wait, the faster it goes by, making it that much harder to get on board. (Pretty much JUMP, THEN JUSTIFY.)

DOING this is such an essential part of this work. I can talk about it, write about it, read about it all day, but until I DO it, it’s nothing.

Everything from nothing, jump then justify, yes and — these are essentially the keys. This, and supporting your team.

So, that being said, in class last week Michael put in a call for volunteers for the Sit-ins. I’m doing it.

Today, Ed asked if I wanted to sit in on Dr. Doctor this weekend. I’m doing it. (Double the panic, double the pain.)

I may fall down (literally, you all know how clumsy I am), I may fry, I may break improv. But I’m going to DO until I don’t.

All Elvis Costello, All Day.

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I’m trying not to live life according to song lyrics. That’s always a bad idea.

TWO WEEKS. I was doing so well with my updating and posting. I’ve been cheating on this blog with my journal. Not my Livejournal, mind you, my real-life journal. Getting all my facts and fictions, crises and carousing and crushings down on actual paper takes me back to the days of drinking black coffee, sweaty palms and hand cramps.

I performed on stage! It was terrifying and I wanted to vomit all day, but I did it. It was as part of the Sit-ins, featuring Oh, Science! They were, of course, amazing. And super supportive. Playing along with myself and other first-timer, Will (who’s in Troupon, more on Troupon later), were two level-one students, one of which had never seen an improv show. She was FEARLESS. I want to be her when I grow up. Screw all this, “WAH I’M SCARED!” business.

I didn’t let anyone know where I was performing or what time. I’m not ready for people I know to see me on stage yet. So Daniel respected that, but wanted to surprise me and celebrate afterward. He showed up to wait outside The Hideout with a bottle of wine in this bag.

Which was sweet, right? Only thing was, I had my show at Coldtowne. This is what I get for keeping my mouth shut. Shot-down surprises.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The other really! big! thing! that happened to me last week was being picked for “Quote of the Day” on the Obama campaign website. I’m trying to donate every time I get angry at the news (which, albeit, is a lot) and I made a comment to illustrate my point:

And then this happened:

I ran around the office like a big dork, but at the end of the day, I made two people, TWO donate to the campaign. (One again, the other, for the first time.) A small difference, but a difference nonetheless.

So there’s that.

Improv, stage fright and President Obama. ¡SI SE PUEDE!