SINKING IN slowly. Everything Joe Bill's been telling me for weeks and weeks is finally starting to make sense. I'm still not in firm control of it yet, but I doubt that I ever will be. It really does work to start a scene with an activity, it really does save your ass later in the scene. How 'bout that... BONDAGE Over the weekend my Playground team (now named Kissing George, in honor of our sexy sexy teammate George Dickson and the inevitable outcome to his scenes) had a little team bonding night. We drank, we danced, we nearly started a fight at the Nisei Lounge AND the Liar's Club. A successful night all around. It's funny to see what happens to people when you take them out of the improv world and let them have some fun... which was good because our rehearsal the next night really sucked. None of us had any energy or motivation to work. Still, I know my teammates much better... they're crazy motherfuckers, too. SPIDER MONKEY The Cagematch was a zoo this weekend. I interned on Friday night, so I got a first hand look at the chaos that ensued. People were lined up from the front door of IO all the way down the block to Goose Island three or four people deep. The 10:30 show had been a pretty packed house, most of which stayed on for the free Cagematch, I'd say we only let forty people in off the street (and a few through the backdoor, like Joe Bill's fiancee and friends of Mick Napier and the Annoyance Theatre guys). Nougat did a good job of stacking the audience - I love the team, but the challenger (consisting of Mick Napier, Joe Bill, Mark Sutton and Ed Furman) was far and away the better group. That's the way it works though... T & A Please excuse the following rant, it in no way described the behavior of all men in the improv community, only a select few. I am so GODDAMN sick of being looked at like a piece of meat when I go to rehearsals or hang around the various theatres. I am tired of seeing and being in scenes where the focus are some woman's breasts. I am sick of irresponsible sexual humor. I am sick of constantly being a boob joke. I am sick of the fact that when a women says that she doesn't appreciate an off-color comment or insinuation that she is considered a bitch and needs to "fucking lighten up". It's just a part of life and we need to get used to it? BULLSHIT. Guess what guys? We DON'T think you're hot, we DON'T want to fuck you, and we DON'T think you're funny. Women could never make you feel as degraded as us because if we did, you'd probably blow your load and come back for more. Sick, stupid motherfuckers. Rant mode off. For the record - I am not an angry feminazi. I don't hate men. Think what you will. I'm just so tired of holding my tongue and laughing. THE SIDEWALK ENDS I'm working to adapt some of Shel Silverstein's adult poems and lyrics into a show. The idea came to me shortly after my Harold team was put together when I went to see Susan Messing's "An Ode to Judy Blume..." I decided I would make goals for myself every year I stick with performing... this past year my goal was to be put on an improv team; I find myself on two. This year I have two: to perform on the stage of the Annoyance (which will probably happen after I get done with Mick's class in a few months with Cheap and Easy Improv) and to see something I've written (or adapted, since I'm prone to futzing with other's good ideas) be put up on stage. I'm excited about this little venture. I can't wait to finish the script. GOODBYE JIMBO we will miss you on the team. I can't believe you stuck with us as long as you did. I don't think I'd ever be so committed to an artform to travel as far or work as hard as you. Good luck with your new team in Detroit and give Gillian a hug for me. The Sidewalk will never end for you, Jimbo. We love you. WHAT I LEARNED TODAY 1. No matter how old you get, it's still fun to play on a big map of the United States. And no, that's not puke on Hawaii, it's a pineapple. 2. You don't really know someone until they're dancing on a table kicking over other people's drinks. 3. Tarot cards have an eerie way of telling the truth. Palm reading is a cheap and easy way to flirt. Required reading: Chickenhead - for the weirdest news there is to print. That's all I have to say about that. WASTE Don't want to be an actor, pretendin' on the stage So if I'm inside your head DRIFT There are times in my life where I'm in free fall and I don't care. My frustrations at the world softly melt back into the shadows, where they belong, and I'm able to peacefully float... just like in the warms waters of the Gulf of Mexico. I remember that my happiness is the only thing that's truly important in this artform. I remember that I started this pursuit with the purpose of creating laughter. I remember that if I enjoy myself on stage that this will reflect in how the audience enjoys my show. I'm not sure at what point I forgot all these things... but I'm glad that they've drifted back. WHAT BEAT ARE WE ON...? The question of the evening on Wednesday night at my Sidewalk Ends show. We charged the stage with every intention of doing a strict by the book Harold, but as soon as the opening ended, that brilliant idea got shot to hell. The important thing, which everyone keeps telling me, is that the team had a lot of fun. That's what I've been missing these past few weeks, I guess - the fun in improv. Maybe that's the reason I feel so funky about that show, because I've been taking the performing aspect too damn seriously. I'm never afraid to do bits with my non-improv friends, because it's fun. I don't over-analyze that stuff, I just do it. Ah, the Tao of Improv... I won't get started on all that... CONGRATS to Rachel Dratch for securing a spot as a featured player on SNL. My former Level 4 teacher from IO, Ali Farahnakian, will be joining the SNL family as a writer as well. I think that's all pretty neat. LORD, I'm sappy and stupid today. I had a really good weekend. WHAT I LEARNED TODAY 1. Allison Bills runs an excellent boutique out of her apartment. She's a goddess. 2. Improv Olympic classes no longer hold the joy they once did for me. I'm going through the motions and I feel like I'm dragging myself there all the time. It's a real shame. 3. Gatorade does not cure hangovers - not even the blue kind that looks like anti-freeze. Required reading: CNN - news is important, you know... That's all I have to say about that. BLOODBATH The next month at IO will be a bloodbath. A big, competitive, demoralizing bloodbath. The number of teams is being cut from 27 to 15. I have this horrible feeling that the Sidewalk has ended. We're dead in a month. That's even worse than having the schedule hanging over your head. I'm a young female improviser - there will be no opportunities left for me at IO when the dust settles. SCARED I HATE LIVING IN FEAR OF THE SCHEDULE! It just goes to show that the best opportunities are the ones you make yourself. THANK GOD for Sweet Justice. THANK GOD for my Playground team. THANK GOD for the show I'm writing. THANK GOD that the kids of the Sidewalk Ends love each other enough to start a team on their own. Maybe this split is a good thing. Maybe this is exactly what I'm needing, a good kick in the ass back on to the street where I started. Fuck it. I've spent a lot of money and a lot of time at IO. I've spent FAR, FAR too much time worrying and afraid of things I can't control. Goddamn it, I'm sick of being afraid. I know why I've been so angry lately. It's all this shit. It's all this shit piling up and I've been pushing it to the back of my brain, telling myself to smile and suck it up. No More. Fuck, I just want to punch something. QUESTION What do I do now? There's so many choices... and they're all MINE to make. WHAT I LEARNED TODAY I learned way the fuck too much today. Let's not rehash it, okay? Required Reading: The Playground Improv Incubator online audition form - I highly encourage HARD RAIN Sorry to rant so much. I'm just so completely disappointed. I thought I had almost reached the end of the line with the IO training center and it seems that if I want to stay at that theatre, I'm going to have to pay out every two months to keep my spot free. I can't afford it anymore and I can't afford to spend the time as an intern for the rest of my stay there. I'm looking around to find comfort in my friends and the players I respect, but there's an awful lot of duck and cover going on. This next month, everybody's on their own. Somebody posted to the IRC "A HARD RAIN'S GONNA FALL" and signed Charna's name. I feel horrible. And I hate being afraid. NEW PUNK This all just confirms Charov's article. I'm a new punk improviser and what I do on stage is wrong. Scrap all that bullshit I wrote two days ago about improv. It's not right. You can have the best self-image of yourself on earth - it won't matter one bit if the people in charge think you suck. I don't want to be lost in the void of Chicago improv... I thought I was starting to find a place and establish some roots. It's such a disappointment. PROUD to be a member of my Incubator team, Kissing George. I love my teammates and I know we're capable of doing really good work. My investment at the Playground hasn't been hundreds of dollars, only hard work and concentration, listening to and trusting my teammates. Sometimes that stuff is harder to give, but you come away with a much more rewarding experience. I guess I'm not lost in some void, after all. Actually, I find writing these entries very cathartic. I start out really upset and then I get to thinking about everything that I have going as a performer and I feel much better by the time I hit the end. And, I haven't thrown any shoes or punched anybody. Don't ask... WHAT I LEARNED TODAY In the past few days there has been a great deal of discussion and regrouping. There is a group of people, those of us young punks with uncertain futures, that have a pioneering attitude towards their careers. Deny us, and we'll only find other ways to reach an audience. We'll form our own teams and find new places to play. We'll experiment with form and style on our own. We'll learn with the people we want to, training center be damned. We'll make breakthroughs and improvements that cannot be credited to any person or institution other than ourselves. I had an entertainment law professor at Northwestern who started his course off with this statement - "Those of you who want to study and learn from the masters of your art will go far. Those of you who have the arrogance to point at your masters after you learn from them and say 'I can do better than that' and believe it will succeed in this business." You never finish learning in this business, but it's never too soon to start pointing. Required doing: Sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. That's all I'm going to say on the subject. Rest easy, gentle readers. PORTABLE HOME The waters have been calmed in my mind about the situation at IO. Sometimes change takes me by surprise and throws me off balance. I've got horrible balance as it is... but I've caught my breath and held my thoughts in check. The most alarming part of last week was thinking that I was somehow losing my home base for performing, and honestly, life. The Improv Olympic is a community that I've come to view as my home and family in the past year. I didn't want to lose my family... but IO is just a place, a building, a collection of teams. The people I love from IO and joy they bring aren't the property of Charna Halpern or anyone else. Honestly, I think I'd be at this point even if the shit hadn't hit the fan, but I'm just like everyone else, I panic too. As I approach the anniversary of "The Decision" (that is, to be an actress), I realize that no matter where I am performing, I am home. The people may be change and the stage may look different, but the experience of making people laugh or think or feel will always be the same. That's the important thing. That's the thing that makes you whole. MANIFEST DESTINY I'm in control of my own fate. There's nothing more hanging over my head, because I won't let there be. If it's up to me, I will never willingly allow that to exist in my life again. Not just as a performer, but as a person. They're all my choices to make. Sometimes I feel as though I've been asleep for the last five years. I hit college and I lost my identity because so much of my life was changing. When I started doing improv, I felt like I woke up a little bit. This year has been that groggy first thing in the morning feeling. I'm finally awake again... I think I'm finally me again. PEOPLE are so damn important in improv. You've got to watch them and learn how they work. Add them to your catalog of characters you can bring out on stage. I realize how few characters I have to put up on stage for scenes. We worked on a few different exercises with Mark Sutton (filling in for Joe Bill) this weekend in class at the Annoyance that made me realize this. Maybe I'm just not paying enough attention to the people that I'm surrounded by to see all the wonderful stuff to play with... Or maybe I just surround myself with the same group of improvisers all the time. Or maybe I don't trust people enough to invest my time getting to know them. Or maybe I'm just lazy. Well, shit. I know I'm lazy... there's no maybes about that. Actually, people have always frightened me, but especially when I was a kid. I used to avoid asking for help because I didn't want to have to speak to someone I didn't know or have someone judge me as being stupid. In grade school, I used to cry if I had to speak in front of the class. I'm an extremely extraverted shy person, even now. PERSPECTIVE I have only been doing this for a year. I have only been doing this for a year. I have only been doing this for a year. Must remember to learn and watch. Must remember to relax and have fun. Must remember to look up to those that are more experienced and not brand myself a failure for not achieving what they have yet. I have only been doing this for a year. I have only been doing this for a year. I have only been doing this for a year... THE END There is a place where the sidewalk ends Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, Shel's, not mine. But definately how I'm feeling. The beginning is the end is the beginning, right? Sometimes you have to sweep away the complications of life and find Happiness embedded in an overstuffed couch, listening to the purr of the ceiling fan as the sunlight plays across its face. WHAT I LEARNED TODAY 1. The Mission:Improvable boys throw a damn fine party. They're so pimptastic, baby. 2. Fishnet stockings might just be a grrl's ultimate weopan. Required viewing: Kissing George That's all I have to say about that. FIRST KISS Kissing George had its first show on Monday night, along with two other Incubator teams, Keyser Soze and Boutros Boutros Daddy. We had a good solid first showing that garnered lots of positive feedback, especially about our opening. Mark gave us a solid B. Scenes ranged from the dramatic (Patrick & Simone's computer geek and hooker) to the really fuckin' goofy (Bill's crap my pants moment). The audience laughed a lot and I think I was the only person to sustain injuries of any sort. George was, inevitably, kissed in our Blair Witch scene by both me and Emily. Em, in what I see was a great move, capped off that scene by planting a big smooch on me. It's only fitting after the weeks and weeks of harrassment I've given her. It was a really positive experience, especially after all of our hard work in rehearsals. We met before the show to do warm ups in good spirits, ready to play. Mark gave a good pep talk and then presented everybody on the team with a good luck charm. I think he was more nervous about our first time out than most of us were. That's got to be a scary thing, as a coach. You can do so much with your group in rehearsals, to nurture them and make them better performers, but the instant they step on stage, you're not able to protect them or help them any more. Even though you're not on stage, that's your work and effort that shows through your performers. Talk about a loss of control... After our show, he had champagne waiting. You can't ask for a better coach. Thanks, Mark. THRILLER Theater is teetering on the edge of oblivion right now. I'm the stage manager and I have absolutely no idea what the fate of the show is going to be. Scary. We're pushing it's opening date back yet another weekend due to the current state of the show. Jason's been sick as a dog for two weeks straight. I think he should call it off and stick some sort of improv show in its place. I've never felt nervous about a show I wasn't performing in before... THE END OF THE BEGINNING I look forward to this Friday night, as it's my second to last week as an IO intern. It's so much easier to spend an evening trapped in the box office knowing that it will all be over with soon. I'm cutting back on the classes and other stuff so that I can enjoy myself and work on my own projects these next few months. I would really like to study with Susan Messing someday, but for now, I'll be happy winding down my studies there and winding down my time with the Sidewalk Ends. Former teammate Jim Nemeth may have set up a gig for the team in Canada, headlining at a theatre in Windsor. We'd get our name on the marquee and we'd get to do the morning radio show to promote our funny funny that evening. Jim's also put together an all female improv troupe that he's bringing to Chicago in November or December. Allison and I will get to sit in with them when they come, which we both think is pretty neat. These are the kinds of opportunities I want to take advantage of, instead of waiting around for an extra show on the schedule. PEOPLE are really important in improv, because they're your audience. You have to tell them about your shows and fill the seats. It's easier to play when you get some sort of response. The best part about people is that they don't necessarily know the "rules" about improv. They're not restricted in what they're supposed to find funny or not. They just laugh and enjoy the show for what it is. You do improv for yourself, yes. But the audience is who you really give the gifts to... WHAT I LEARNED TODAY 1. You can never have too many friends named Jenny. 2. George Dickson wears steel-toed boots on stage. If you don't believe me, I've got a lovely bruise on my ass that you should really see. 3. Emily Kellam has some hot lips, guys. I highly recommend her. 4. I'm the new Jesus. Watch me perform a miracle and feed everybody with this donut. Required viewing: Action That's all I have to say about that. SILENT IN THE MORNING No Sidewalk Ends rehearsal this weekend cuz we had a show last night. Mike had to miss it, so Matt Chapman (our coach) stepped in to play with us. The suggestion had to have been the worst one in our history - "Boring Weekend". As Matt has said so many times before, the one emotion that does not play well in improv is boredom. If the audience wanted to see boredom, they could have just stayed home and stared at the wall. You can't blame an audience for anything, however... it's that "the customer is always right" bullshit. I had one decent scene with Matt and Dennis in the second beat of their thing, but that's all I felt good about. The rest of the team seemed pretty happy and amused with themselves and their work. It was very fun to have our coach sit in with us, and I think we learned a lot by having him play. Four more shows left before the sidewalk ends. CONGRATS to Jen Shepard and Larrance Fingerhut. They got married on Friday in a very private ceremony in Evanston. Best of luck to you both. AMNESIA is what I quietly pray for regarding that show I did on Thursday night. Please, please, please somebody club me on the head and get rid of the ickiness. Thankfully, it was a pathetically small Thursday night crowd and I never have to do it again. THE FREAKER'S BALL I finally got a few minutes to work on my adaptation of Shel's stuff... It was important to me to add in music, as he was a songwriter. So many little facets of the man that people just don't know about, or at least I don't know about. I want this piece to have enough freedom and flexibility so if a random Chicago folksinger walked in off the street during a performance that they could walk up on stage, do a song and then disappear into the shadows, as Shel often did. I've already talked to a few area singer/songwriters about taking part in the finished project and they're all pretty hip to the idea. Mike and Joel are in to play the Devil and Billy Markham, which are the only two parts I'm really concerned about. I have two people in mind for Uncle Shelby, but I fear that if I submit this project to the Playground for consideration (which would cut the space and publicity costs and thus make this whole project a possibility) I won't have much say as to who gets cast for the rest of the roles. I also have huge worries that I won't be able to direct the piece if I go through this channel, since I've never directed before. Since I'm not having kids, this is as close to a child as I'm going to get - I'm not too excited about handing it over to somebody else. The other huge problem: getting the permission to use the poems and lyrics in the show. I know that people do adaptations all the time without problem, but I don't even know where to start to go about getting the clearance to use this stuff. That will be my next research project after I get this script finished - I'm sure the woman that maintains the Banned Width website can shed some light as she's got most of these poems on the site... If I can't do it as a show, then I'll pass off the experience as good practice for the future. I don't want to pass it off, but hey, you do what you can, right? STUPID GIRL God, I feel dumb on stage lately. There's nothing in my head when I step out to do a scene. There's no words. I'm not funny. I barely know what's going on even though I'm listening. I've got no clue what the hell is going on. Maybe I was not designed to do improv. Maybe I should stay backstage where I belong. I think that a lot of my anger at IO lately isn't because of the shake-up to come, but that I'm so frustrated with myself that I need to project it on to something else. Why not attack the thing that gives me the most grief? I'm such a whiny little bitch lately, too. All I seem to do is complain. I hate that version of me. WHAT I LEARNED TODAY 1. All you need are a few bolts and a sturdy two by four. 2. I'm addicted to Baskin Robbin's Swirled Famous Brownie. I crave it during my classes at the Annoyance like a junkie for smack. It's pure chocolate evil. Required doing: Go dance, even if it's a silly dance when you're alone in your house with the radio That's all I have to say about that
9/8/99
I just finished reading my entry from last week. My current state of being isn't that bad - I'm not sure what pushed me over the deep end last week. Actually, that's a bunch of bullshit. I've been in my head about personal stuff for the past few weeks, and it just happens to all tie back to improv. Much better now, thanks.
9/13/99
I just can't get this Phish song out of my head...
Don't want to be a writer, with my thoughts out on the page
Don't want to be a painter, cuz everyone comes to look
Don't want to be anything where my life's an open book
A dream, it's true
But I'd see it through
If I could be wasting my time with you...
Don't believe what you might have read
You'll see what I might have said
To hear it
Come waste your time with me
Come waste your time with me
yet.
9/14/99
I've been in happy freefall until I realized the bottom dropped out and I'm never going to stop falling.
everybody to sign up. Great program, nice people, fun time, good
opportunity. The next audition is coming up pretty soon, I think.
9/15/99
And the news of the IO bloodbath keeps on flying...
9/20/99
I've abandoned Phish for Lyle Lovett today...
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
And the dark street winds and bends
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
TONIGHT! 8pm @ The Playground (Roscoe & Lincoln)
Absolutely Free
9/22/99
It's getting damn cold outside. I can't stand being cold... need to invest in some warm sweaters to go to work in.
On a FOX station near you
Thursday nights @ 8:30pm
9/27/99
I'm back to Phish again. Inevitably, I always come back to them... You're silent in the morning, you found your voice, it brings me to my knees...
blasting and the cat's scared of you because you look like a freak. It's good for
you.
