Old Wine, New Bottles

[Meljo]

I am not an awkward person.

I thought I should get that out of the way before I start this journal. I think I should also mention that if you are a member of the UCB community, I am terrified of you. Perhaps this is why it's taken me over a year to work up the nerve to start an improv journal, and why we haven't met... So let me introduce myself.

My name is Melody Johnson, I also go by Mel. I'm from McLean, Virginia (4 miles from Washington, DC), and I go to school in Philadelphia where I study Writing for Film and Television. Neither one of these places has a sturdy improv scene. I intend to change that, but that's a topic I'll elaborate on at a later date.

I've always known what I want to do with my life. I want to make people laugh. My goal is to be able to do this through the well-oiled funny machine that is Late Night with Conan O'Brien. It's a TV show. Maybe you've heard of it.

So, I knew what I wanted to do. Next, how do I get there?

I stumbled upon the UCB theatre completely by accident. For my 16th birthday, I wanted nothing more than to see a live taping of Late Night. That didn't work out. My mother, being the incredible woman that she is suggested that I look around for another comedy related activity in New York City, where she would be more than happy to escort myself and my 3 best friends. So, I found the UCB and their brand spanking new theatre, made reservations for some Friday show I knew nothing about, and we were on our way.

We saw The Swarm. And from then on out, I was in love.

I'd seen improv before, but I'd never seen it done correctly. Not until that night.

Knowing exactly what you want out of life at age 16, or really believing you do, sure does leave you screaming on the inside… for anything, for college, for freedom, even for death as long as it would get you away from the day in, day out routine of high school – a place where no one is understood, and where nobody cares about your problems. I tried to start, or revive rather, an improv troupe of any kind in my high school, but NO ONE would help me or sponsor it, and fewer people were interested: especially the theatre teacher, who insisted that we didn’t need a troupe because “if life is improvised, then that’s enough practice.”

So, I did all I could do. I went to the UCB Theatre whenever I was in New York, and eventually familiarized myself with the Harold Teams, and with the people on them. I tried my best to match the faces I’d seen perform with the people here on the IRC. I have always been afraid to post here, mostly because I’m terrified, for the first time in my life, of what people think of me.

Be nice to me, I think you're awesome.

 

[Meljo]

stepping outside she is free

I almost transferred from my school after this year because I was utterly and totally miserable. In the book I'm reading right now, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, there's a line that says "A person who longs to leave the place he lives is an unhappy person." That was me.

The problem I had was this: my department, for those of you screenplay writers out there reading, focuses entirely on 3 act structure a la Robert McKee. The UArts mission is "take this knowledge of structure and produce 2 full length dramatic films before the end of your senior year." This is all well and good and fun and exciting unless you've always wanted to write comedy for television (note: when I submitted my portfolio full of comedy pieces and joined the writing for film and television department, it was to my understanding that I'd be able to do both of these things - comedy and television). In fact, It's very emotionally trying to try and write dramas when you want to make funnies, and perhaps have a bit with a dog. Or bathroom jokes. Or Adam Sandler.

These things made me extremely unhappy. And the weather this past winter on the east coast certainly didn't help. And the UCB theatre was no more. Everybody had a rough winter.

So, I set out on my way to transfer. While I did this, I looked for a lot of things. I wanted to continue with my musical career (In addition to being named Melody, I play the clarinet, the saxophone, and the bagpipes. I also sing. And yes, if you need a bagpiper, I do weddings, funerals and parades). Nowhere in America can you find a place near New York City that has longform improv, band, comedy writing, and happiness in a little box addressed to Mel Johnson. After a long debate with myself, I decided on a school to transfer to: the University of Tennessee. I have a lot of family around there, and they have a kick ass marching band (I can hear you laughing at me!). I went down there and absolutely loved it, and kicked ass on my audition, and ended up getting a music scholarship. So, that was it. I was going to Tennessee.

Now it's about April 1, and I'm excited along with the rest of you for the grand opening of the new UCB theatre in it's current kick ass space. I figure, what the hell, I'll go to New York, I'll visit my good pal Gena (also a theatre regular), and I'll make the familiar trek to pay my $7 for a show on Friday night.

I saw the Swarm. Again, I was in love.

All these feelings I'd had where I'd doubted myself entirely melted away, leaving my former ambitious self behind. It ruled. If you've never had an epiphany, I totally recommend it. It's a memorable event.

Upon my return to class the next week, my English teacher assigned our final project - find an aspect of local art that's of importance to you and learn more about it, and educate the class. Perfect freaking project, which could also double as the proposal for, you guessed it, a longform improv club/workshop/troupe at the University of the Arts.

I spoke to the dean of my department about everything (there are only 16 of us per class, so he's got time to listen) - about wanting to transfer, about wanting to write television comedy but being forced to write dramatic films, about being in love with improv and not being able to perform in a steady group, and about how if he would help me, I could get this improv thing up and running.

When he learned that I had almost transferred, he told me how upset that made him, and how he couldn't imagine our department without me, because I was one of, if not the strongest writer in the bunch. He then told me how for the past few years, they'd been debating taking the hour and a half 3 act structure stuff and cutting it down to a 44 minute format, because it's much more challenging to build a story in an hour of TV than in 2 hours of film. So, now we're doing 1 hour TV series - or so we're scheduled to start in the fall. Isn't that cool? I almost cried when he did this drastic change of his department right in front of me for my benefit. I finally felt good about this place, and all it took was one conversation with my dean.

He also told me in regards to the improv quest that I'm the most ambitious person he's had come through his department in years, and that he'd be honored to sponsor and help outfit an improv troupe. His exact words were "if you want to do improv, Mel, you can have anything you want to do it. That's a wonderful idea."

There's just one problem.

I've read Truth in Comedy an insane amount of times, I've performed, I've watched - Lord knows I've watched. I've participated in workshops, but nothing really fancy. So, does that authorize me to teach improv? Certainly not. So here I am, terrified, but at the same time excited beyond anything I've ever felt. I really don't want to fuck this up.

 

[Meljo]

Trapped forever, here in Robot Hell

I hate telling people my age.

I don't even make up how old I am, if I can help it. I think that's because no matter how old I say I am, it's never old enough. I've always been the youngest because I was put in school too early - thanks, Mom - and I hate people pointing it out. "You're only 12?! Wow... we've been 13 for YEARS." I often feel as though I'm talked down to by people who know my age - but isn't it just a number? I think it is... I wish everybody did.

Last night, in a crazy instant messanger discussion with a friend and fellow improviser, I was sneakily tricked into revealing my age! Actually, it wasn't very sneaky at all, I'm just an idiot, and my age was in my Friendster profile, where I was sure nobody of importance would ever look. I was wrong! So, that means one of you out there knows my true age. (You know who you are *shakes fist*)

You know, I don't really even mind. This person didn't make me feel bad about it at all, which I'm not used to. Maybe improvisers really are better people. I believe that more and more every day. High five.

My friend Paul who works at the DC Improv (stand up club) recently started doing his own open mic night for comedy in DuPont Circle since all of the other ones in the area are either mixed comedy and music acts or crappy as hell. A few weeks ago, I met a guy named Leo there who is in a musical improv troupe in DC, and he encouraged me to come see them perform sometime. Until the DCM this weekend, I was skeptical of musical improv, but after seeing the Made Up Musical, I'm interested. Plus, I always try to take advantage of improv when I'm in DC, because there really isn't any, and every longfom show is a learning experience.

I've seen WIT twice now, neither time being *in* Washington. They were really smart about their improv both times - where ARE you guys? Why do I have to go out of town to see the home team?

On an unrelated note, I saw 25th Hour last night. It was an amazing movie that left me feeling horrible about many things. Spike Lee, you do this to me every time. (note: a little backstory for you, "Do the Right Thing" made me hate white people for a few days... and I'm as white as they come!)

 

[Meljo]

Or am I Origami? Fold it up and just pretend...

One of the best thrills a person can get, in my opinion, is the thrill of realizing that you've taught someone something useful.

Towards the end of June, I got to teach improv to two of my mother's 8th grade theatre classes (so, to correct something I said in an earlier entry, I suppose I have taught improv before). It was great. She had warned me that her first period class would be the better of the two groups, and that second period was full of delinquents that got stuck in her class because they'd been asked to leave another. So, I went in there with my very VERY basic improvising notes in hopes of having a little bit of fun with two classes full of pubescent stamina.

The first group of kids was a train wreck, and I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with me. I started out by asking them to play a game of freeze as they knew how, in an attempt to get them excited about being onstage and really to wake them up. It was, after all, 7:00 in the morning. That went decently with the 5 kids who weren't terrified to get up onstage, but the rest weren't interested at ALL. After the initial game of freeze, I asked them to sit down and then told them the basics - Yes and, connections, awareness of surroundings, respect for your scene partner, trust. They understood, but except for the participating 5 or 6, they didn't care. That hurt me a lot - looking out at 25 kids who could have cared less about what I was telling them.

The 5 that did seem to care of course began a scene about poop. With kids and improv, you just can't get around the poop thing, because hey. Poop is a funny word, dammit, both when you're 12 and beyond. Basically, this scene consisted of one kid and his doctor, who were discussing a poop disorder. I stopped them a little ways through and reminded them of "Yes and," and that we got the poop thing. "If poop, then what else?" I asked? Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would ever stand in front of my mother's first period class and say "if poop, then what else." Thank God the bell rang shortly thereafter.

Second period completely blew my mind. I started out differently with this group - I asked them what they knew about improv. I was surprised at their knowledge. They knew about agreement and moving forward and I swear I almost kissed the girl who said "always make the other dude look good." You're 12!! Who have you been talking to?!

Unlike the first group, these kids seemed really eager to perform, with the exception of maybe 4 of them. I asked them what games they knew, and they decided they wanted to play what they called "touch and go," which was also freeze, but hey. I liked these kids, I'm not one to correct them. They very kindly asked me to put them in a scene, and they'd take it from there. I gave them a scenario and then had them develop their own characters and relationships, and what do you know? It was awesome.

The scene had 6 people in it originally. Five girls all played attendees of a pro sports team boot camp for mascots, and the boy played the drill sergeant. It was outstanding. I was amazed at how smoothly the scene ran, and was really proud of them for applying the concepts I had just taught them to their scene.

After a while though, it became obvious that although everyone else in the class really wanted to play, they were afraid to get up and add to the scene or go and change it, because they were having a good time watching. The kids playing in the scene actually sensed this, and then ended the scene by themselves and all sat down again! I nearly soiled myself.

After two or three rounds of freeze, I got to noticing the few kids who hadn't gotten up onstage yet. Their friends would urge them to, but they wouldn't. As I learned from the first class of the day, there's no way you can force someone to embrace improv, and certainly can't make someone get up in front of an audience, so I introduced a little bit of the players as editors and directors concept to them.

They LOVED this.

One girl would not shut up. "We cut to these two characters at the prom ten years earlier!" "We cut to the truck driver's first day of preschool!" "We cut to Jodie getting her arm sawn off in the lunchbox factory!" A born director. She finally ran up on stage when she could take no more and had to tap somebody out.

To my disappointment, the bell rang right then. Several of them shouted their thank yous to me on the way out the door, which was nice, and my little director ran up and gave me a hug. It ruled. When I asked her why she'd run up there to be in the scene finally after 20 minutes of back seat driving, she responded "Because. Nobody could make my scene look the way I wanted it to but me." That a girl.

If not for second period, I would have left that day feeling like utter and total crap.

Today, a friend of mine urged me to go to "www.ratemyteacher.net" and rate some of our old high school teachers (it's amazing how many of them aren't there anymore), so while I was there, I of course looked up my mother. This is one of the comments I found:

"Mrs. Johnson is a cool lady. I loved learning improv from her daughter in class, and I'm joining the high school troop next year. THANK YOU!!!!"

I have a pretty good idea of who wrote this comment, but it still made me feel damn good.

 

[Meljo]

Come with me and you'll be in a world of pure imagination

The dean of my department - Jeff Ryder, I'm sure I'll be mentioning him a lot - called me yesterday. I really wanted to talk to him, but I was on my way out the door, so we set up a phone date for next Tuesday to talk about this improv business. He wanted to tell me that I will most definately have a table at freshman orientation this year to persuade and recruit the little children, and that he'd discussed my ambitions with the dean of students, and he's really excited about this as well.

All I want to do, day and night, is talk about improv. And I have nobody here to do that with. Summer vacation has never been so long.

It's good to see that Dyna Moe has made a comeback to the jounal circuit. I missed the ol' Drill Press. Best of luck to you, D.

 

[Meljo]

I think I see the light coming to me, coming through me - giving me a second sight

(so shine shine shine...)

I've been saving money for a while now in order to be able to take a level 1 class at the UCB Theatre. As of June, I have enough. It's not in the bank - If I put it there, I'll spend it. So, I have, sitting on my bookshelf, a sealed envelope with $300 cash in it. Every time I look at that envelope, I get really excited.

The idea was that I'd take level 1 during the fall on a day when it didn't conflict with my classes and such in Philly, and stay with my brother who lives in Brooklyn. For the past week, my brother, who is a musician, has been in LA trying to further his career, and has apparently been really successful, which I'm happy about, since he was sort of beginning to flounder in New York, and he's an amazing drummer. Part of the process of floundering is picking fights with your sister, so hopefullly with his newfound happiness, we'll be able to quit butting heads.

So, the long and short of it is, my brother will be moving to Los Angeles, and I will have nowhere to stay the night in the city while I take level 1. But you know what? I'm going to work through this little speed bump, because damn it, I've waited too long to be able to do this - so long, in fact, that it's almost physically painful to think about putting it off any longer. Also, I know if I *do* put it off any longer, I'll deposit the money and just spend it on something stupid... like food to eat during the school year. Pfft.

My mother is refusing to speak to me becasue I'm wearing my "free sex" possible side effects shirt. This amuses me. I should wear this shirt more often.

 

[Meljo]

Did you want to leave a tip on here?

I've worked off and on as a cashier at the McLean Family Restaurant since my freshman year of high school. It's CRAZY there - a Greek owned establishment that serves primarily old people - the 60+ crowd. It's fun though, I have a good time.

Part of my job is to seat people when the manager isn't around, and when it's not too busy, I play matchmaker with the regular customers, and have for years. I don't fix them up to go on dates or anything, I just seat them near eachother when they come in to eat alone in hopes that they'll leave at the end of their meal not quite as lonely as they were when they came in... after all, when people eat at the same restaurant every day of the week by themselves, you begin to get attached, and after that, you begin to worry about their lives outside of that setting. Do they live alone? Do they have *any* food in their apartment?

One of the waitresses, Rosie, who's a friend of mine, has her entire phone book on her cell phone filled with primarily regular customers (and when I say regular customers, I mean the people who come in every single night). She really genuinely worries when they don't come in, and she'll call and make sure everything is okay. Part of this concern comes from the fact that about 6 years ago, one of our regulars killed himself and wasn't found for days. It was rough on everyone - especially Rosie.

Yesterday was no different. At 2, when the crowd finally left, one of the regulars was still sitting at her booth reading the paper. She's a little tiny German lady, probably about 70. Another regular came in after that, he's probably nearly 40 - tall and skinny with thinning dark hair and blue eyes - really sharp features. He's not exactly what you'd call a looker, but he's certainly not ugly. So, I seated him in the booth in front of where the German lady was so that they were facing eachother, but had 2 tables in between them. I left at 3 and thought nothing of it.

Today, when I got there at 11, there they were, sitting across from eachother at the same table talking and enjoying their coffee - newspaper free. The manager came over to me and asked me if I had sat them near eachother yesterday. I said yes.

As it turns out, my 30-something with the thinning hair and my little german lady are mother and son who haven't spoken in 5 years, and yesterday they made a pact to clear up their differences.

Success!

When they were finished, the German lady came up to pay and thanked me after explaining in her own words what had happened. When they left, I burst into tears. It was a good day.

 

[Meljo]

Hey you with the pretty face! Welcome to the human race.

Friday and Saturday were dedicated to moving furnature into my new apartment, so off to Philadelphia I went.

One of the nice little perks of living in my building is that I get a free membership to Philly's largest and fanciest health club for a year. Woah! While I was up there this weekend, I decided to take the tour of the 12th Street Gym, which I have often walked by, but never been inside.

That place is amazing! But that's a story for a different journal. When I got to the third floor where the aerobics classes are held, I walked past a classroom that was empty except for one thin lady with long, curly black hair. She saw me and grinned - but I ignored her because I couldn't possibly know this woman. As I started to continue on the tour, she rushed over and the following conversation took place:

Her: Excuse me!
Me: Yes?
Her: Do you take classes at the Upright Citizen's Brigade? (this question isn't so weird, I was wearing my UCB shirt.)
Me: Yes! Well, no. Not... Not yet. But I could tell you all about them...
Her: I do know all about them. Do you do longform improv?
Me: Yes I do!
Her: Because it's very rare to see someone wearing that shirt in this city.
Me: I'm actually trying to get something started in Philly since there really isn't anything.
Her: I am too, right now I'm performing with comedy sportz and a troupe called Lunch Lady Doris. Do you play with anybody at the moment?
Me: No, I'm really working on getting something started at my school.
Her: You're in college? Where?
Me: The University of the Arts.
Her: Really? I've been trying to get a job there for a while now.
Me: Teaching what?
Her: Improv.

--> Let's take a time out for a second. What the hell!!! Why is improv all of a sudden finding me after all these years? I really did just have to wait until *it* found *me*.

After that, we just blabbed about improv and about the marathon, which she was apparently at, and she said she'd be thrilled to help out with my troupe once... um... I get one together.

Anyway, as if that wasn't weird enough, Saturday morning while I was going up and down the elevator in my building moving crap, guess who gets on THE FLOOR BELOW ME?! Yeah. That's right. Bobbi the improv lady lives in my building.

I'm going to have fun at school this year! Yay!

 

[Meljo]

the late night network comonwealth is there to help me help myself

Okay. For my table at freshman orientation, I need to have an informative flyer/postcard type thing to hand out, as well as a sign up sheet for interested people...

These things are good. However, I know why *I* myself am drawn to improv, but why might other people be? I have a homework assignment for you, IRC. What kind of information could I include on a flyer about longform improv that would get people from many different departments interested in trying it out?

[fyi: my school has a fine arts school (animation, illustration, printmaking, ceramics, graphic design), a performing arts school (jazz vocal, jazz instrumental, dance, musical theatre, acting), and a college of media and communications (film, video production, writing for film and tv, multimedia)].

Please please PM me if you have any suggestions... I know you guys have more flyering experience than I do.

:nervous:

 

[Meljo]

I said "Be careful! His bowtie is really a camera!"

Aah, stand up. There will always be a place in my heart for you... maybe.

After spending a good portion of my childhood and virtually ALL of my high school career traipsing around the Washington DC Improv, I really can't just shut out stand up. However, last night, for the first time, I felt differently.

There's something about stand up that I just can't stomach. I think it might be the idea of saying the same crap night after night. Where's the challenge? Where is the fun in it?

A friend of mine hosts a comedy open mic night downtown (22nd and P in Dupont Circle) on Monday nights. I hadn't been in a while, so I decided to head on down last night. The comedy really wasn't even that bad as far as open mic nights go - and trust me, I've seen some God awful open mic nights - but I don't know... I wasn't anywhere near as respectful for the form as I once had been. On the drive home, I made some mental notes as to why this might have been, and so here are the top 3 reasons I came up with as to why longform improv puts stand up comedy to shame.

3. When a person buys a ticket to see a stand up comic, they know exactly what to expect - often stand up fans know a comic's joks verbatim. "I want to see Dennis Leary to hear him tell the NyQuill joke off of 'No Cure for Cancer.'" Great. That's can be fun, I guess. Personally, I've enjoyed buying tickets for improv shows because you never know what to expect. "I want to see the Swarm because I know they'll knock me on my ass - and I won't even have known what was coming."

2. When you expect something from a joke, chances are you're going to be let down. I'd much rather have something jump up at me when I wasn't expecting it than if I were expecting too much. That's why connections are so fancy! (note: last night, the hardest anyone laughed was when one comic made a reference to a previous comic's joke... and the joke itself wasn't that funny, but the connection was hillarious. I found that amusing)

1. Any hack can get up onstage and talk about how craaazy his life is, but it takes balls to be able to create something - create a new life, a new home, a new persona, and then at the end of the night just send that person back into the oblivion you originally pulled them from. Don't just TALK about people you think are funny. Show us what they're really like. Invoke. Become your act.

 

[Meljo]

1.21 Gigawatts!!!

While making a website for the "UArts Improvisation Organization" today, I recieved the following private message:

Hi there,

My name is Susan Jacobson, and I am an adjunct professor in the Communication Dept. at UArts. (Actually, I work full-time as a prof. in NYC, I come to Philly once a week.) I am going to be teaching a class called WebRadio on Wednesday nights this semester. The class is really about producing audio-visual content for the Internet (streaming media), but we are going to focus on streaming live events and developing original programming for Internet distribution. I am going to use longform improv to help inform the content development process in the class. I am not an improviser (my relationship with improv takes a little explaining), but I am going to use Truth in Comedy as a textbook, and Bobbi Block and Lunch Lady Doris are going to come do a lecture/performance for the class and for the wider university in October.

At any rate, I would love to get you involved in this class. I know that Jeff Ryder may or may not approve, and of course it depends on what you have already scheduled for the fall. It would be great if you are free to have you come participate in the class, maybe as a TA, if that could be arranged. Also, we are hoping to inspire the UArts students to begin a student Internet radio club (audio and video), and it would be so fab if the improvisers could get their hands on it. I am convinced that long-form improv and live events on the Internet are deeply interconnected as art forms. To find out why and how, you'll have to talk to me in person or come to my class!

I've always found it very irritating that my school, unlike every other university in the world, didn't have a radio or television station. So, yeah. Excitement! I've been so bored with college up to this point - but look at me now! My schedule is going to be insane - with the WebRadio class, I'll be taking 6 additional credits to my 16 regularly scheduled ones, I'm starting this improv organization, and I'm still trying to find time to get up to the UCB once a week for a level 1 class. If I die of exhaustion, tell my xbox that I loved him.

Oh, IRC. Good things are going to start happening to me now, and it's all thanks to you

 

[Meljo]

I love you more than I did the week before

I can't believe my summer is actually over. I'm excited for the new school year, though - because of improv, mostly, but also because I'm glad to have the chance to start over and make my peace with Philadelphia.

That having been said, if you're going to be in town on September 3 and are interested, stop by the UArts Activities Fair - 320 S. Broad St. I'll be there at my little table, recruiting for my little troupe. Be a friend, bring me a muffin.

The Uarts Improvisation Organization.

My name's in the phonebook! I'm somebody!

 

[Meljo]

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

I just got back from the activities fair in the main building of my school. There was a decent turn out of freshman, maybe a third of the class, which is pretty decent for an optional event. When I was a freshman, I didn't even know about an activities fair, let alone attend one.

I handed out about half of my 200 flyers, so I guess I'll post the rest in other buildings around the "campus."

I had a lot of extremely excited people approach me, which was really thrilling for me, because hey. That's how I feel, too. I had 30 interested people sign up to be on my mailing list, and that was just from the freshman class. Hooray!

I was also surprised by the IRC's own Chris Conklin, whom I had never met before. He is a smashing fellow - I look forward to being part of his practice group (to whom i might be able to supply a free practice space) and helping him to establish an improv community in Philadelphia. We's all doing our part to make things more better. Basically what I have on my plate in regards to improv for the next few days is to write an official Constitution for the organization to go on file in the student activities office. I feel like Congress! Because you know... they wrote the constitution.

Tomorrow, I am scheduled to help IRCer and UArts professor Susan Jacobson broadcast drop-ad day over the web. Speaking of which, the product of her WebRadio class is going to be in the style of the Nutrino Video Projects - streaming improv web video. I am excited to a retarded extent. If we're going to be Nutrino, I want to be Ptolemy. He's dreamy.

Things in Philadelphia are fabulous, and I'm 100% glad that I didn't transfer.

 

[Meljo]

I can't sail my yacht, they've taken everything I've got

All I have's this sunny afternoon.

The weather has been fabulous lately - thus inspiring me to venture to south street and purchase a live Kinks album, a bitchin' vintage tin lunchbox, a new Yellow Submarine poster, and an obnoxious thift store shirt. This "back to school business" can't be good... for business. I'm buying too much crap.

Life has been good... a little TOO good. Good things that have happened lately include:

1. Improvising with Mr. Chris Conklin and friends just south of here. There were weak moments, but all around, I found this practice to be beneficial. In addition, I feel like I met 5 cool people with a big thing in common with me - their love of improv. And it felt really good. (side note: Matt, who is mentioned in Conklin's journal as well, is an awesome improviser who resembles Andy Secunda. But maybe I only think this because he makes awesomely hilarious facial expressions, much like the real Secunda)

2. Julia, my best friend in the whole world is visiting from California. She got here yesterday, and we've been having a grand old time, which will only get better as the weekend presses on (we're going to New York tomorrow to see the 'Late Night' 10th anniversary, and back to back Swarm shows... and still my comedy thirst may not be quenched!)

3. The boy from Starbucks (also known as Starbucks Mike) called me last night (Wednesday) after I finally worked up the courage to give him my number on Monday. This event follows a year of having a fierce crush on the adorable red-headed 24 year old drummer. Rarr. Life is good this week! If we were to have children, the tallest they could be is 5'0". Oh, wait. That was a creepy thought.

Look out, NY. Here comes trouble in the form of a short girl from Northern Virginia.

 

[Meljo]

who'd have thought that love could be so caffeinated?

Let's talk about improv.

Rehearsal tonight was so much fun! I got there late (I had to take Julia to the airport), and was greeted this week by only 3 other people - the IRC's Conklin, Alexis and Matt. I had missed some warm up games, but was in time to do some movement work during which we touched on heightening, which is something that I definitely need to work on.

Speaking of heightening, I learned a game tonight that I'd never played before - "Make *that* More Interesting," in which one person does a scene and the other players sit in the audience and pick out certain actions for the performer to heighten. I had lots of fun with this. Whenever I've had the opportunity to share my improv knowledge with anyone (specifically 6th, 7th and 8th graders), I've always made space a big issue - I can't stand it when people walk through tables, when they can't remember where they've placed their props, etc. It was fun to take my own advice and remember just where the watering can was left... God it feels good to perform again - It's been entirely too long.

One thing I regretted not doing in regard to space was making use of more of the room. I pretty much kept to the back. I didn't realize this until about halfway through my scene when I felt really far away from everything ... it was weird. Like there was this invisible line that I couldn't cross. Something to think about for next week. Matt really made use of the space (in his scene, he was looking for a book at the library) and made sure to walk up and down several different aisles while he did this instead of just the one aisle. The whole time, I kept thinking "woah, big library."

Something that never ever happened at last week's rehearsal was 'finding the game of the scene' in any sense. This week, we had that somewhat, and it was nice. Everybody brought things back, we were making connections, and there was a decent sense of when a scene should end. Our group mind is growing, I can feel it.

Until next Monday!

P.S. - My adventures this past friday at the Late Night 10th Anniversary taping were wonderful. Brian Stack, you are a wonderful man. Robert Smigel kissed me. I literally bumped into Lorne Michaels (and nearly wet myself). Seeing UCB people in the show opening made me really happy. The Swarm 'midnight hive' was lots of fun - my improv crush on Dave Blumenfeld grew a lot Friday night (i doubt you're reading this, but if you are, that song you sang was fantastic. I haven't laughed that hard in a while. Thank you.), and temporary tatoos are fun!

 

[Meljo]

we could just yell! and then we'll call it YELLPROV!

Why don't you punch me in the face while you're at it?

Rehearsal tonight... should never be spoken of again. I'm going to get the bad out of the way, and then move onto the good.

Bad: I need to learn to be able to improvise with ALL types of people. Even those who are loud and obnoxious scene killing no-anding douchebags... becuase as of right now, I can't do that. This is a big weakness.

Good: I made a new friend tonight! Last week, Matt told us that he'd be bringing his roommate (whose name I believe is also Chris) who's made several short films and done some work with video skits and whatnot. Very nice guy, very excited about making some shortfilms and doing some sketch comedy based on improv: music to my ears!

Let's hope that today will mark the end of my terrible weekend. Tommorrow is a new day filled with editing Sunday night's video production project, sunshine, and boxed wine.

 

[Meljo]

To those of you in the Philadelphia area:

On Wednesday, October 1 from 7:30-9PM, there will be a FREE screening of Philadelphia's premire longform troupe - Lunchlady Doris - in the UArts building located at 211 S. Broad St (Broad between Sansom and Walnut) in room 806 (Connelly Hall). This event is open to the public - **this is also the OFFICIAL intrest meeting for the UArts Improvisation Organization.**

Be there. Or I'll steal your children in the night.

(After a month of what turned into an unwelcome distraction/hiatus, It's good to be back on track.)

 

[Meljo]

Hop into the Meat Grinder!

(seeing Jack McBrayer on Late Night always makes me giggle)

On the whole, things have sucked lately, but tonight was a step up.

I finally got to see Lunchlady Doris, and I really enjoyed their show. The most rewarding part was getting to see a show that generally costs $12 for free!

Becuase of confusion with time, rehearsal schedules, and the fact that it's Wednesday night, not as many people showed up tonight as I would have liked. Also, the UA students who did show up left before the end of the Q and A session with Lunchlady Doris because it was getting late. I'm not too disapointed, though - things don't happen all at once.

Speaking of UArts, Mr. Chris Conklin (thank you for coming!) mentioned this thread this evening from a few weeks back. I had no idea any of you went to UA - and hated it. I totally know how you feel. I'm glad I decided to stay here, I can't imagine how terrible life would have been had I tried to start over elsewhere, but I often wonder what things would be like if I had the chance to take part in something that was pre-established rather than starting from scratch. Anyway, I'm working on it.

The added bonus of the day was getting to know Chris on a little more of a personal level. After the show, we shuffled on down to More than Just Ice Cream to grab some food. Oh, $5 pie. You weren't as good as I wanted you to be! Anyway, we exchanged stories of improv crushes (it turns out that his brother and I share a common crush) and scaring those people over the IRC. Internet improv crushes are rad. So is using the word rad. I hate meeting new people and having to get past that awkward phase - I hate how I act when socializing with someone new that might not get my quirks, but it seems like the worst is over. It seems we share a common crazy bond.

Hey look, that last paragraph was about socializing, which is something I promised myself I wouldn't talk about in here. Oh well, looks like that rule is broken.

(Mr. Ute Giddeon, if you're reading this, I'm sorry I didn't get to meet you tonight! Come down with Susan sometime, it's always nice to put faces to IRC handles and avatars.)

 

[Meljo]

i'm three days from new york city and i'm three days from you

Took the R5 tonight with Chris Conklin to Haverford to see The Throng, and ended up doing some drunk scenework in the basement of a dorm. It ruled.

If you had any idea how much I love Chris and Alexis, you'd smack me and say "stop loving Chris and Alexis so much!"

Also, if you had any idea how fucking amazing Haverford, PA is, you'd drop everything and go there, and enjoy their trees, corn-cobb pipes, yeungling, and downright awesome improv.

tonight? definately awesome. and some of us have free jackets now to show for it.

It's 4:30 in the morning, and I definately have to get up for class at 8:30. Life is beautiful.

 

[Meljo]

endless rain into a paper cup

My journal is pretty ugly. It's all text and no pictures. So, tonight, for your viewing pleasure, a picture!

I totally found it like this - I didn't write that there. But boy is this city one funny sumbitch!

Hopefully, UArts Improv will have the privilege of having a workshop with Zach Ward on November 1. All I have to do is find some money... which I will do, damn it. I'll do it if I have to have a bake sale (which will be rough, since my apartment has no oven).

My phone conversation with Zach today left me feeling warm, fuzzy and back on track. It's a good feeling, especially since all feelings I've had lately (both in regards to improv and otherwise) have been negative. But hopefully that's all over with. Hopefully. Zach said things I needed to hear - like "start small. build that bridge so that all your troops can march across." This is all going to be okay. knowing that fact is a good feeling. This seems possible again. Every once and a while, I need someone to kick me back into believing that.

Moral dilemma of the day - If for some reason I can't get this $300 from my school to do the mentioned workshop and can't raise it, do I hand over the envelope on my bookshelf marked "UCB Level 1?" Sometimes, we have to push things that we want further away to get the ball rolling. What's a girl to do?

I'm not in this alone. I'm not in this alone. Life is not that scary. My friends will help me. Everything will be okay... I'm going to get what I want. Damn it.