Remember how I told you, my beautiful blog readers, about how I'm going to Billings June 6th to try stand up comedy at an open mic? Um, well, it's June 4th right now... You know what that means??? That I'm typing this instead of practicing like I should be??? Well, yes, but that's not the point.
I have two days left until my big debut...
Two.
Days.
How do I feel??? I am alternately excited and so scared that I almost cry a little.
Oh, I know that sounds a little sad, but my tear ducts are directly connected to my every emotion, so that's really very normal.
I'm planning on having my friend record the whole thing for me, so if it goes well I'll post the video for my blog on Friday. If I crash and burn, I will be burning the evidence of my humiliation in a ritualistic fire situation.
Anyway, I just thought you might like to know that I haven't chickened out. Yet. I'm comforting myself by saying that I still have some time to be a chicken if I really must.
Aaaaaah! So please, say a little prayer for me, your dear friend, who is freaking out just a little. Or a lot. Depends on the moment.
Showing posts with label Stand Up Comedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stand Up Comedy. Show all posts
Monday, June 4, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Stand Up Comedy Starter Kit
Well, it's official... I talk to myself. Constantly. It's not as bad as it sounds... Okay, well maybe it is.
To be perfectly honest, I have always been an accomplished self-talker. I remember staring at myself in the mirror as a teenager... Uh, wait... I mean, child, I was little, definitely not a teenager, cause that would be embarrassing... Anyway, I would stare at myself in the mirror and recite dramatic monologues that I made up and practice crying on command. "No... No, the doctor said I only have six months to live... But I will prove him wrong. I will survive!!! Because I... I... I love you!!! Boo hoo hoo, waaaaah, tear, tear, wrinkled up sad face." End scene.
Who knew that my ridiculous bathroom cry monologues would serve me later in life? Serve is a relative term, mind you... I have been practicing my stand up comedy by talking out loud to myself and trying not to be embarrassed by it. I have to admit, I am much, much worse than I thought I would be. I get so damn nervous that my voice comes out all tight and I sound exactly like I did when I said the special prayer at my high school graduation (yes, they let La Diabla say the prayer at graduation... I can't explain it. Fools! Muah ha ha ha!!!). This is when I'm alone, what am I going to do with a room full of people?!?
"Hi, my name is Mandy and I'm 31 years old. If you can believe it, this is my first time doing this." Oh my God, how humiliating, I am the most ridiculous person in the world!!! That's it!!! That is absolutely it, I can't do this in front of people. I'll die. Everyone will feel sorry for me." That's my inner monologue. Comforting, isn't it?
As the date closes in on me, I have been feeling a little frantic. I have been writing bits like a mad woman in my notebook... Breaking out in random cold sweats... I have been doing weird things... For instance, I created a stand up comedy kit for myself... It includes a wire whisk, my notebook, and a glass of wine.

Perhaps I should explain the significance of the items included in my handy dandy stand up comedy kit...
The notebook: Contains my "amazing" comedy bits and other extremely weird stuff I'm glad nobody else has ever seen.
The wire whisk: Of course, is the perfect substitute for a microphone. I have spent an alarming number of hours of my life singing into a wire whisk, just ask my Mom.
The glass of wine: To calm the nerves... Perhaps I should make it a whole bottle?
Considering the amount of butterflies I get in my stomach when I picture myself onstage in the comedy club with only my (questionable) wit and a (real) microphone, I'm thinking of adding a shot of tequila to the kit. Tequila has butterfly-killing properties, right???
So, if you see me in my car with no passenger having a conversation, you know why... I'm just honing my skills.
I hope haven't confirmed all of your fears that I am, in fact, barely holding onto sanity.
I also hope that you all have a wonderful week! Thank you so much for taking your time and reading my silly little blog, it means the world to me!!!
To be perfectly honest, I have always been an accomplished self-talker. I remember staring at myself in the mirror as a teenager... Uh, wait... I mean, child, I was little, definitely not a teenager, cause that would be embarrassing... Anyway, I would stare at myself in the mirror and recite dramatic monologues that I made up and practice crying on command. "No... No, the doctor said I only have six months to live... But I will prove him wrong. I will survive!!! Because I... I... I love you!!! Boo hoo hoo, waaaaah, tear, tear, wrinkled up sad face." End scene.
Who knew that my ridiculous bathroom cry monologues would serve me later in life? Serve is a relative term, mind you... I have been practicing my stand up comedy by talking out loud to myself and trying not to be embarrassed by it. I have to admit, I am much, much worse than I thought I would be. I get so damn nervous that my voice comes out all tight and I sound exactly like I did when I said the special prayer at my high school graduation (yes, they let La Diabla say the prayer at graduation... I can't explain it. Fools! Muah ha ha ha!!!). This is when I'm alone, what am I going to do with a room full of people?!?
"Hi, my name is Mandy and I'm 31 years old. If you can believe it, this is my first time doing this." Oh my God, how humiliating, I am the most ridiculous person in the world!!! That's it!!! That is absolutely it, I can't do this in front of people. I'll die. Everyone will feel sorry for me." That's my inner monologue. Comforting, isn't it?
As the date closes in on me, I have been feeling a little frantic. I have been writing bits like a mad woman in my notebook... Breaking out in random cold sweats... I have been doing weird things... For instance, I created a stand up comedy kit for myself... It includes a wire whisk, my notebook, and a glass of wine.

Perhaps I should explain the significance of the items included in my handy dandy stand up comedy kit...
The notebook: Contains my "amazing" comedy bits and other extremely weird stuff I'm glad nobody else has ever seen.
The wire whisk: Of course, is the perfect substitute for a microphone. I have spent an alarming number of hours of my life singing into a wire whisk, just ask my Mom.
The glass of wine: To calm the nerves... Perhaps I should make it a whole bottle?
Considering the amount of butterflies I get in my stomach when I picture myself onstage in the comedy club with only my (questionable) wit and a (real) microphone, I'm thinking of adding a shot of tequila to the kit. Tequila has butterfly-killing properties, right???
So, if you see me in my car with no passenger having a conversation, you know why... I'm just honing my skills.
I hope haven't confirmed all of your fears that I am, in fact, barely holding onto sanity.
I also hope that you all have a wonderful week! Thank you so much for taking your time and reading my silly little blog, it means the world to me!!!
Friday, January 13, 2012
Detonation Complete
Well, it's that time of the week again... Time to neglect my household duties for who knows how long, let the things that need to be done around here scream at me as I pointedly ignore them, and type my little fingers to the bone.
I must admit that I have been absolutely dreading this week's blog. I feel like what I'm about to do is the emotional equivalent of showing you all my horrible naked body or something. I would never do that to you, don't worry... After all, you wouldn't be able to read my blog if you went blind. Or mad. Or both.
So, here I go, about to detonate my dream bomb and then sift through the wreckage of my possible mortification. Incidentally, I felt I had been using the word "humiliation" too much and thus looked it up in the thesaurus... Mortification has sort of a ring to it, don't you think?
I know I am drawing this out to a ridiculous length, but really, I'm super nervous, cut me some slack!!!
Soooooo....
The thing I have always dreamed about doing that I am going to just go for, try, possibly fall on my face in public, can't wait to do (yet it makes me nauseous to think about), and that could forever be a source of embarrassment for me is...
I sincerely hope it lives up to the hype, but I realize that the more I hype it the less likely that is... Especially when several of the guesses of my loved ones were much more interesting and important. Things such as going into politics, writing a book, or trying to become the next Taylor Swift (Can you tell I'm stalling? No, of course not, I feel like I'm being pretty subtle).
Anyway, my dream is:
Stand up comedy.
Ridiculous? I know. Crazy? Most likely. But I'm doing it anyway.
I realize it's kind of a strange thing for a chubby stay at home mother of two to dream of doing, but I can't help it. I realize this next sentence is the cheesiest thing anyone has ever written, but I feel it in my heart. I have been obsessed with comedy ever since I can remember. I have been rolling this around in my head, picturing it, and okay, I'll admit it, secretly writing comedy bits in a notebook labeled "MANDY ONLY!!!" for years.
Side note, the strangest thing about the notebook (aside from it's existence) is that a notebook labeled "MANDY ONLY" has somehow managed to acquire an alarming amount of children's drawings in it... Ah well, as long as the kids don't read my crazy ramblings and tell their father that he is fodder for my comedic barbs I can't object too much.
So it's out there now... My poor little dreams are just shivering in the cold without the safety of their secrecy clothes.
I thought maybe you all would like to see the journey so I'm going to write about it. Not every blog mind you, cause that would get boring. But the culmination of this journey (God, I'm making it sound like I'm taking the ring to Mordor or something) is going to be me performing at an open mic night in Billings and posting the video for you guys to watch. They have one every Wednesday and the date I am shooting for is April 4th... I need to give myself time to prepare, but I don't want to set it out there too far into the future or I may chicken out. Actually I'm feeling a little chicken-y right now....
Eeeeeeeeeeek!!! I'm freaking out!!!
But I think that's a good thing.
I must admit that I have been absolutely dreading this week's blog. I feel like what I'm about to do is the emotional equivalent of showing you all my horrible naked body or something. I would never do that to you, don't worry... After all, you wouldn't be able to read my blog if you went blind. Or mad. Or both.
So, here I go, about to detonate my dream bomb and then sift through the wreckage of my possible mortification. Incidentally, I felt I had been using the word "humiliation" too much and thus looked it up in the thesaurus... Mortification has sort of a ring to it, don't you think?
I know I am drawing this out to a ridiculous length, but really, I'm super nervous, cut me some slack!!!
Soooooo....
The thing I have always dreamed about doing that I am going to just go for, try, possibly fall on my face in public, can't wait to do (yet it makes me nauseous to think about), and that could forever be a source of embarrassment for me is...
I sincerely hope it lives up to the hype, but I realize that the more I hype it the less likely that is... Especially when several of the guesses of my loved ones were much more interesting and important. Things such as going into politics, writing a book, or trying to become the next Taylor Swift (Can you tell I'm stalling? No, of course not, I feel like I'm being pretty subtle).
Anyway, my dream is:
Stand up comedy.
Ridiculous? I know. Crazy? Most likely. But I'm doing it anyway.
I realize it's kind of a strange thing for a chubby stay at home mother of two to dream of doing, but I can't help it. I realize this next sentence is the cheesiest thing anyone has ever written, but I feel it in my heart. I have been obsessed with comedy ever since I can remember. I have been rolling this around in my head, picturing it, and okay, I'll admit it, secretly writing comedy bits in a notebook labeled "MANDY ONLY!!!" for years.
Side note, the strangest thing about the notebook (aside from it's existence) is that a notebook labeled "MANDY ONLY" has somehow managed to acquire an alarming amount of children's drawings in it... Ah well, as long as the kids don't read my crazy ramblings and tell their father that he is fodder for my comedic barbs I can't object too much.
So it's out there now... My poor little dreams are just shivering in the cold without the safety of their secrecy clothes.
I thought maybe you all would like to see the journey so I'm going to write about it. Not every blog mind you, cause that would get boring. But the culmination of this journey (God, I'm making it sound like I'm taking the ring to Mordor or something) is going to be me performing at an open mic night in Billings and posting the video for you guys to watch. They have one every Wednesday and the date I am shooting for is April 4th... I need to give myself time to prepare, but I don't want to set it out there too far into the future or I may chicken out. Actually I'm feeling a little chicken-y right now....
Eeeeeeeeeeek!!! I'm freaking out!!!
But I think that's a good thing.
Friday, January 6, 2012
The worst idea ever???
It's a new year, everybody!!! Full of hope and promise... Or at least it is for about three weeks. Until I begin rationalizing the old habits I was trying to break with the annual changing of the digits.
The resolution this year is a little (okay, I'll admit it, a lot) weird and, I'll just put it out there, it scares me... Which is why I'm writing it down for all to see. Oh geez... I sorta have a tear of fright in my eye. Yes, I get a tear in my eye when I get nervous... Also when I get scared... Also when I'm happy... And sad... Or watch a sweet commercial... Or my kids do something cute... You get the drift, every emotion is attached to the old tear ducts.
Anyway, I have resolved to try something new... Something that I daydream about, obsess about, have always wanted to do, and that absolutely nobody, not my husband, Mom, or best friends even knows I have been thinking about doing. Before I tell you what it is, I want to explain to you (in my typical long-winded fashion) why I would contemplate such an insane, ridiculous, and potentially humiliating undertaking. Warning: The following is super sappy and may be boring in the extreme.
I'll start out by saying that I love being a stay at home Mom and I think about the implications of that a lot. It has been the most amazing blessing and privilege of my life watching my little people grow and be who they are. They are the coolest! And because I am the Mother of such cool, creative, special children I must toot my own horn a bit and say they're cool because of me. Kind of. Well, alright, I packed them around in my belly for a bit and they came out cool. Either way, I was involved.
Sometimes you get knocked on your ass a little (the pretentious may call it being humbled) by the idea that you were a part of creating this little miracle and making the world better by bringing it into existence. (I would like to note, that as I was writing this, one of my little miracles was unzipping my couch pillow and gleefully tearing the stuffing out of it.) The whole Mom gig is super fulfilling on the most primitive and important levels. I would rather be doing this than anything else in the whole world.
Okay, barf-worthy and mushy as that was, thinking about that and how much I love my kids and want them to simply be themselves and follow their dreams is what prompted this whole resolution idea thing to begin with.
So how many of us parents are following our dreams? I'm not sure. So many of us have been detoured off of the path we originally set out on or intended and have made happiness out of where we landed. Which is wonderful, but also not exactly what we want our children to do.
Of course that does not diminish our happiness or the passion we feel for our lives. Nor does it erase the fact that, in our heart of hearts, many of us still have a personal passion. Something that is completely, 100 percent selfish and has nothing to do with anyone else or what they need and want and feel.
As every parent knows, we make a lot of personal sacrifices to be good at what we do and mostly forget about the selfish personal dreams. While I do feel that much of that is necessary, I'm also not sure it is setting the best example for my babies. Can I tell them to follow their dreams when they don't know what that looks like?
Some mothers show this to their children through working at a job they love, or cooking, or going back to school, or volunteering, or doing a hobby they love... Well, me, I am basically lazy and spend my free time worrying about bills, bitterly cleaning up after everyone, or cooking something for dinner.
So... I have resolved to do something this year that I desperately want to do that scares me to death.
I am going to follow my dream.
My ridiculous, embarrassing, insane, nerve-wracking, super-secret (for a good reason) dream.
And I am going to show my babies what living the life you want to live looks like. I'm not going to sit around fighting lethargy and passing time, I'm going to do it.
I am going to potentially humiliate myself, possibly die of embarrassment, and do what I dream of.
And I thought you guys might want to watch the (potential, have to think positive) train wreck.
I'm going to write about it, the whole thing, on this blog so that I have no chance of chickening out.
Help. HOLY HELL!!! I'm freaking out a little bit. Putting it out there and writing about it makes it real. Panic setting in. Need. Paper. Bag.
So, I am scared to death... And if you want to find out what the secret dream is, that I keep locked up in my head and never ever let out, you'll have to keep reading the blog. I'm too embarrassed to tell you yet.
Maybe some of you have already guessed it by now...? (Hint: It does not involve wearing a bikini in public.) Or maybe you've just been counting how many times I have written the word "dream." It's a lot.
Well, feel free to speculate... I have probably built this whole thing up in my brain to a level that can never live up to the hype...
But you won't find out for sure until next week.
The resolution this year is a little (okay, I'll admit it, a lot) weird and, I'll just put it out there, it scares me... Which is why I'm writing it down for all to see. Oh geez... I sorta have a tear of fright in my eye. Yes, I get a tear in my eye when I get nervous... Also when I get scared... Also when I'm happy... And sad... Or watch a sweet commercial... Or my kids do something cute... You get the drift, every emotion is attached to the old tear ducts.
Anyway, I have resolved to try something new... Something that I daydream about, obsess about, have always wanted to do, and that absolutely nobody, not my husband, Mom, or best friends even knows I have been thinking about doing. Before I tell you what it is, I want to explain to you (in my typical long-winded fashion) why I would contemplate such an insane, ridiculous, and potentially humiliating undertaking. Warning: The following is super sappy and may be boring in the extreme.
I'll start out by saying that I love being a stay at home Mom and I think about the implications of that a lot. It has been the most amazing blessing and privilege of my life watching my little people grow and be who they are. They are the coolest! And because I am the Mother of such cool, creative, special children I must toot my own horn a bit and say they're cool because of me. Kind of. Well, alright, I packed them around in my belly for a bit and they came out cool. Either way, I was involved.
Sometimes you get knocked on your ass a little (the pretentious may call it being humbled) by the idea that you were a part of creating this little miracle and making the world better by bringing it into existence. (I would like to note, that as I was writing this, one of my little miracles was unzipping my couch pillow and gleefully tearing the stuffing out of it.) The whole Mom gig is super fulfilling on the most primitive and important levels. I would rather be doing this than anything else in the whole world.
Okay, barf-worthy and mushy as that was, thinking about that and how much I love my kids and want them to simply be themselves and follow their dreams is what prompted this whole resolution idea thing to begin with.
So how many of us parents are following our dreams? I'm not sure. So many of us have been detoured off of the path we originally set out on or intended and have made happiness out of where we landed. Which is wonderful, but also not exactly what we want our children to do.
Of course that does not diminish our happiness or the passion we feel for our lives. Nor does it erase the fact that, in our heart of hearts, many of us still have a personal passion. Something that is completely, 100 percent selfish and has nothing to do with anyone else or what they need and want and feel.
As every parent knows, we make a lot of personal sacrifices to be good at what we do and mostly forget about the selfish personal dreams. While I do feel that much of that is necessary, I'm also not sure it is setting the best example for my babies. Can I tell them to follow their dreams when they don't know what that looks like?
Some mothers show this to their children through working at a job they love, or cooking, or going back to school, or volunteering, or doing a hobby they love... Well, me, I am basically lazy and spend my free time worrying about bills, bitterly cleaning up after everyone, or cooking something for dinner.
So... I have resolved to do something this year that I desperately want to do that scares me to death.
I am going to follow my dream.
My ridiculous, embarrassing, insane, nerve-wracking, super-secret (for a good reason) dream.
And I am going to show my babies what living the life you want to live looks like. I'm not going to sit around fighting lethargy and passing time, I'm going to do it.
I am going to potentially humiliate myself, possibly die of embarrassment, and do what I dream of.
And I thought you guys might want to watch the (potential, have to think positive) train wreck.
I'm going to write about it, the whole thing, on this blog so that I have no chance of chickening out.
Help. HOLY HELL!!! I'm freaking out a little bit. Putting it out there and writing about it makes it real. Panic setting in. Need. Paper. Bag.
So, I am scared to death... And if you want to find out what the secret dream is, that I keep locked up in my head and never ever let out, you'll have to keep reading the blog. I'm too embarrassed to tell you yet.
Maybe some of you have already guessed it by now...? (Hint: It does not involve wearing a bikini in public.) Or maybe you've just been counting how many times I have written the word "dream." It's a lot.
Well, feel free to speculate... I have probably built this whole thing up in my brain to a level that can never live up to the hype...
But you won't find out for sure until next week.
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