Killing Myself for Shits & Giggles

I’m alive and well, but just barely. I made it safely (and late) to my (final) destination. Yesterday was a crazy day of buses, subways, getting lost and finding myself again.

Is this not the face of a man who has international fame for delivering the best comedy training?

Insane. I’m paying through my nose for a five-day intensive training session of self-improvement (I know, it’s a shocker but there’s room for betterment) all this so I can make people laugh. My trainer is a 4’2″ little hard ass woman who trained with Philippe Gaulier in France. And she likes to yell at us. As we’re standing in front of an audience doing our best to make them laugh, she yells at us, then with tears in our eyes we have to deliver. I’d hate to get beat up by a 4’2″ squash because I wasn’t funny. I’d rather die, so I kill myself in order to “kill”. Get the pun? I thought it was brilliant!

Meanwhile my face hurts because I laughed so much yesterday. My arms and legs hurt because I have to walk like a demented monkey (oops, almost used the “r” word, which I have been progressively removing from my vocabulary, not that people with disabilities are like demented monkeys, please don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to get yelled at) all day.

There is a girl in my group who reminds me of Sarah Silverman. If I didn’t know better I’d say she kinda did her hair to look like her. But she didn’t because she had NO IDEA who Sarah Silverman was.  (???)  And then I said it was a compliment, Sarah is not only one of the funniest women alive, but she is also very pretty, which is (another foot in mouth moment, get ready for it) rare because pretty women in comedy are rare. And I am telling this to about 5 women in comedy. That funny women are not pretty. I got plenty of dry blank looks and stares. And I’m like, well, backpedaling, trying to explain how it’s a new thing, and how well, Quebec women are prettier than like say other areas I’ve seen (oh the shit I’ve seen, why is it that meth creates a byzarro world of plastic surgery gone eerily wrong?)

So, what world am I in if they don’t know who Sarah is? AND, don’t realize that funny ladies were not always traditionally pretty? AND why is it that THE ONE person who gives Carol Burnett as an example (of less than pretty funny lady) is the one person to whom I almost said “And YOU remind me of Carol Burnett!”. At least one mishap was avoided…  Let’s see what kind of trouble I can get myself into today!

Oh and if any of you know facial warm-up exercises I can do to reduce and minimize the pain, please let me know!

p.s. thanks to my trainer, who is connected to Mr. Gaulier, I am now at 2 degrees of separation from Sasha Baron Cohen! Awesome!

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