September 14, 2010
I discovered today why there is only one knob on the shower: according to Yaneth, the majority of people in Guatemala don’t have hot water. I find it interesting that they get pay-per-view cable for free, but hot showers are an impossibility. For now, getting the shivers occasionally is okay, but I wonder how cold it will get as September draws to a close.
Class went well today; it was mostly talking and laughing with some new vocab thrown in. I realized that my brain learns my repetition and word association, and I’m having a hard time learning all the new words at once. For instance, the word for “shit” is “mierda” and the word for afraid is “miedo.” So, since they sound quite similar, I think to myself, “I’m afraid of shit” (Tengo miedo de mierda) to remember. If you’ve heard my sexy-devil-Halloween-costume story, then you most likely know this to be true. P.S. If you buy me a shot (or seven), I’ll tell you the story, complete with gruesome details.
In the afternoon, I decided to take a stroll to Central Park. I was told there would be a lot happening for Independence Day (which is tomorrow), but all I could see were people setting up a speaker system. So I decided to park myself on a bench and work on my homework. That didn’t last long as the sun was really hot, and people kept approaching me and trying to sell me earrings, bracelets and necklaces. I did get approached by a two-year-old boy who stared at me with a fascination that resembled (clichéd joke alert) the Amish in Best Buy. When his mom finally pulled him away, he blew me a kiss, and it was the cutest thing ever! So cute it made my ovaries hurt.
I find that the past two days have passed by slowly. It’s amazing how much time you have when you’re not running life’s daily errands. Not cooking, cleaning or grocery shopping frees up an incredibly amount of time. I don’t know how that makes me feel. On one hand, it makes me think there’s a reason food preparation take time, that it’s work to feed and nurture our bodies. However, sometimes, I think that I should cut my food prep time down so I can devote more time to other things in my life. But, that would probably mean eating Ramen and/or tv dinners every meal, and I don’t think I’m so down with that.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
My trip to Guatemala - Day 2
September 13, 2010
I woke up and met Estela, the woman who cooks for the students and looks after the guesthouse. She made me vegan pancakes that were quite delicious, and I also had a nice helping of fresh fruit.
After breakfast, she walked me to La Union, where I started my first day of class. After the first hour, it felt routine and like I'd been studying and living there for much longer than 24 hours.
My teacher's name is Yaneth. La Union features a one-on-one teacher/student program, so Yaneth and I spent the first hour conversing freely in Spanish. We talked about everything from the length of Catholic weddings to what one can do when her/his friend is dating someone who is clearly bad news. At one point, we even got into the topic of media bias. Granted, my teacher was speaking very slowly, but I was still shocked by how much I could understand. My Spanish is still very elementary, but what I do know came back quickly.
I did learn that when attempting to say the main industry in Detroit is auto production, don't use the word "coche" (which means car in some Spanish-speaking countries) while in Guatemala as it has a different meaning there. Apparently, I told my teacher that everyone in Michigan works "in pigs."
I was struck by how friendly people are in Antigua. While I had a break from school, I walked around a bit. An older man on the street immediately struck up a conversation with me when he pointed at my jacket and declared that it was too hot to be wearing such things. I smiled and attempted to explain that I get cold easily. He then told me he was originally from Spain and asked where I was from. When I told him the United States, he said, "Ah, the country without a name. The United States of what?" I answered, "America," to which he responded, "America is not just for the US. It's not a country; it's a continent. We're Americans, too. Your country has taken over that name."
I nodded my head in agreement and thought, "Yes, that's kind of what the US does...take things over."
After class, I went to an information session about volunteer opportunities the school has. It was supposed to be a group trip, but I was the only one who showed up. I was taken to a place that was a combination school and home for children with severe mental and physical disabilities. The children were out of school due to it being the week of Guatemala Independence. However, the project director gave me a tour of both the school and home.
Apparently, the majority of children at the home were abandoned by their parents and spend their nights in giant cribs (with ten kids to a room) and days lying on mats on the floor. One of the rooms we went in must have had 30 children in it, all on the floor, unable to move. It was such a sad sight, especially knowing that many of them have no families and this is all their lives are most likely going to be. I was comforted by the fact that the staff seemed to be very caring, but still, the evidence of the lack of resources for people with disabilities in poor countries was abundantly clear.
In the evening, I met my third housemate, a 28-year-old guy named Nery. His family is from Guatemala, but he grew up in the Bay Area of California. He knows Spanish already, so he's in Guatemala to, as he puts it, "learn the culture."
We chatted for a while before he suggested we go on a walk around town. He showed me where Central Park was located and also pointed out several bars and restaurants. I actually saw quite a few vegetarian joints along with a cute place called the Bagel Barn (a coffee shop full of people with their noses in books) that plays Spanish movies every night. It looked quite tranquil and like a lovely place to study. Coffee shops, studying and foreign films - wow, it feels like I'm in college again!
When we returned back to the house, we ate dinner and had a rather lengthy chat about MMA. Apparently, UFC pay-per-view is free and available in our rooms at the guesthouse. Between that and the Much Music Channel (Canada's equivalent of MTV that actually - gasp! - plays music) that Guatemalan cable features, I'm watching more tv here than I do at home. Stop the insanity!
Some shots of my school:
To view more pictures of my trip, go check out my album on facebook.
I woke up and met Estela, the woman who cooks for the students and looks after the guesthouse. She made me vegan pancakes that were quite delicious, and I also had a nice helping of fresh fruit.
After breakfast, she walked me to La Union, where I started my first day of class. After the first hour, it felt routine and like I'd been studying and living there for much longer than 24 hours.
My teacher's name is Yaneth. La Union features a one-on-one teacher/student program, so Yaneth and I spent the first hour conversing freely in Spanish. We talked about everything from the length of Catholic weddings to what one can do when her/his friend is dating someone who is clearly bad news. At one point, we even got into the topic of media bias. Granted, my teacher was speaking very slowly, but I was still shocked by how much I could understand. My Spanish is still very elementary, but what I do know came back quickly.
I did learn that when attempting to say the main industry in Detroit is auto production, don't use the word "coche" (which means car in some Spanish-speaking countries) while in Guatemala as it has a different meaning there. Apparently, I told my teacher that everyone in Michigan works "in pigs."
I was struck by how friendly people are in Antigua. While I had a break from school, I walked around a bit. An older man on the street immediately struck up a conversation with me when he pointed at my jacket and declared that it was too hot to be wearing such things. I smiled and attempted to explain that I get cold easily. He then told me he was originally from Spain and asked where I was from. When I told him the United States, he said, "Ah, the country without a name. The United States of what?" I answered, "America," to which he responded, "America is not just for the US. It's not a country; it's a continent. We're Americans, too. Your country has taken over that name."
I nodded my head in agreement and thought, "Yes, that's kind of what the US does...take things over."
After class, I went to an information session about volunteer opportunities the school has. It was supposed to be a group trip, but I was the only one who showed up. I was taken to a place that was a combination school and home for children with severe mental and physical disabilities. The children were out of school due to it being the week of Guatemala Independence. However, the project director gave me a tour of both the school and home.
Apparently, the majority of children at the home were abandoned by their parents and spend their nights in giant cribs (with ten kids to a room) and days lying on mats on the floor. One of the rooms we went in must have had 30 children in it, all on the floor, unable to move. It was such a sad sight, especially knowing that many of them have no families and this is all their lives are most likely going to be. I was comforted by the fact that the staff seemed to be very caring, but still, the evidence of the lack of resources for people with disabilities in poor countries was abundantly clear.
In the evening, I met my third housemate, a 28-year-old guy named Nery. His family is from Guatemala, but he grew up in the Bay Area of California. He knows Spanish already, so he's in Guatemala to, as he puts it, "learn the culture."
We chatted for a while before he suggested we go on a walk around town. He showed me where Central Park was located and also pointed out several bars and restaurants. I actually saw quite a few vegetarian joints along with a cute place called the Bagel Barn (a coffee shop full of people with their noses in books) that plays Spanish movies every night. It looked quite tranquil and like a lovely place to study. Coffee shops, studying and foreign films - wow, it feels like I'm in college again!
When we returned back to the house, we ate dinner and had a rather lengthy chat about MMA. Apparently, UFC pay-per-view is free and available in our rooms at the guesthouse. Between that and the Much Music Channel (Canada's equivalent of MTV that actually - gasp! - plays music) that Guatemalan cable features, I'm watching more tv here than I do at home. Stop the insanity!
Some shots of my school:
To view more pictures of my trip, go check out my album on facebook.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
My trip to Guatemala - Day 1
From September 12 - October 5, 2010, I went to Antigua, Guatemala. I went mostly to study Spanish and to take an extended vacation...and because I got the ticket for free on Spirit Airlines. No, they're not paying me to say this, but if you haven't flown Spirit, DO IT! They are super cheap (So cheap that they don't have Sky Mall magazine on their flights; instead they have Sky Dollar Store magazine. Hey-o!), and they have an excellent frequent flier program that enables you to get free air travel.
I kept a daily journal in a notebook while I was traveling, and I decided to type some of it and include it in this blog.
I've also included some photos that I took, and I posted an entire set (minus some embarrassing shots) over on facebook.
So, without further adieu:
September 12, 2010
As I was exiting my flight from Detroit to Fort Lauderdale, a woman, who reminded me of my mother, saw me reading my traveler's guidebook about Guatemala and asked, “Oh, are you going to Guatemala? I am, too.” We then had a two hour discussion about social justice while we waited for our flight to Guatemala City. She told me about building houses in Tijuana, Mexico, helping families plan funerals after their loved ones pass away and having a daughter who works on Microcredit in developing countries.
She told me she thinks of social justice as having two feet: one foot that provides immediate assistance/charity and the other that examines the root cause(s) of the problem. Only when you have both feet can you stand, and also move forward. I told her I hadn’t heard it described that way before but that I appreciated her sharing the analogy with me.
We critiqued the IMF and factory farming and pondered about remedies for Detroit’s poverty. We went on to speak about the demonization of immigrants and the cluelessness of gigantic SUV-drivers. I had originally intended to spend the time during my lay-over calling friends and family and letting them know I was safe, but I found it much more enjoyable to speak to a stranger, whose name I never did get, about hope and change.
I was nervous the entire flight to Guatemala, but I was calmed by a Canadian couple who now make their home outside of Guatemala City, where they go door-to-door trying to convert people to become Jehovah’s Witnesses (wonder how you say “watchtower” in Spanish?). They warned me that I would frequently see dogs on the street being mistreated (stones thrown at them, etc.) and it wasn’t long before I spotted neglected dogs for myself. When I exited the airport, there was one roaming the sidewalks nearby.
When I first left the airport’s main door, I didn’t see a sign with my name on it (as I was promised by the school). There seemed to be an endless sea of faces and signs with other names on them. Finally, after five minutes and turning down multiple offers for cabs, I spotted my name. I hopped in the shuttle bus and immediately began using Spanish. The driver and I spoke about basic things - where I was from, how long I was planning to stay, etc. We even managed to make each other laugh a few times.
After 45 minutes, he dropped me off and showed me to my room in the student guesthouse that I would call home for the next month. I was struck by the difference in architecture I saw (compared with the Midwestern structures I was used to). The house featured tin roofs, two terraces and areas with open ceilings.
Once in the house, I met Miranda, one of my housemates. She's originally from Texas and moved to Guatemala to lead eco-tours. She and I share a love for travel and need for movement and change, although I have a feeling she's more adventurous than I am.
I slept most of my first day as I was so exhausted from weeks of sleep deprivation. To my surprise and delight, I was able to sleep like a baby. I suppose that happens when you temporarily leave your daily life behind and your biggest worry is learning to conjugate irregular verbs like "poner."
Some shots of the guesthouse:
And the view from outside our front door:
I kept a daily journal in a notebook while I was traveling, and I decided to type some of it and include it in this blog.
I've also included some photos that I took, and I posted an entire set (minus some embarrassing shots) over on facebook.
So, without further adieu:
September 12, 2010
As I was exiting my flight from Detroit to Fort Lauderdale, a woman, who reminded me of my mother, saw me reading my traveler's guidebook about Guatemala and asked, “Oh, are you going to Guatemala? I am, too.” We then had a two hour discussion about social justice while we waited for our flight to Guatemala City. She told me about building houses in Tijuana, Mexico, helping families plan funerals after their loved ones pass away and having a daughter who works on Microcredit in developing countries.
She told me she thinks of social justice as having two feet: one foot that provides immediate assistance/charity and the other that examines the root cause(s) of the problem. Only when you have both feet can you stand, and also move forward. I told her I hadn’t heard it described that way before but that I appreciated her sharing the analogy with me.
We critiqued the IMF and factory farming and pondered about remedies for Detroit’s poverty. We went on to speak about the demonization of immigrants and the cluelessness of gigantic SUV-drivers. I had originally intended to spend the time during my lay-over calling friends and family and letting them know I was safe, but I found it much more enjoyable to speak to a stranger, whose name I never did get, about hope and change.
I was nervous the entire flight to Guatemala, but I was calmed by a Canadian couple who now make their home outside of Guatemala City, where they go door-to-door trying to convert people to become Jehovah’s Witnesses (wonder how you say “watchtower” in Spanish?). They warned me that I would frequently see dogs on the street being mistreated (stones thrown at them, etc.) and it wasn’t long before I spotted neglected dogs for myself. When I exited the airport, there was one roaming the sidewalks nearby.
When I first left the airport’s main door, I didn’t see a sign with my name on it (as I was promised by the school). There seemed to be an endless sea of faces and signs with other names on them. Finally, after five minutes and turning down multiple offers for cabs, I spotted my name. I hopped in the shuttle bus and immediately began using Spanish. The driver and I spoke about basic things - where I was from, how long I was planning to stay, etc. We even managed to make each other laugh a few times.
After 45 minutes, he dropped me off and showed me to my room in the student guesthouse that I would call home for the next month. I was struck by the difference in architecture I saw (compared with the Midwestern structures I was used to). The house featured tin roofs, two terraces and areas with open ceilings.
Once in the house, I met Miranda, one of my housemates. She's originally from Texas and moved to Guatemala to lead eco-tours. She and I share a love for travel and need for movement and change, although I have a feeling she's more adventurous than I am.
I slept most of my first day as I was so exhausted from weeks of sleep deprivation. To my surprise and delight, I was able to sleep like a baby. I suppose that happens when you temporarily leave your daily life behind and your biggest worry is learning to conjugate irregular verbs like "poner."
Some shots of the guesthouse:
And the view from outside our front door:
Unlucky in the UP
In September, I had the pleasure of working at two Kewadin casinos in Michigan's Upper Peninsula with my good friend, Dobie Maxwell. I met Dobie during one of my first paying gigs at a club that's now closed, an old Italian restaurant that hosted comedy shows on the weekend. We've remained friends ever since we first bonded over how hard shows can be when audience members are too busy stuffing their faces with bruschetta to laugh. Oh yeah, and his last name is also my middle name. Although we've been friends for several years, we rarely work together, so it was nice to be able to share the drive and the stage with him (and to commiserate over our harsh slot machine losses).
A shot from the drive there:
This was taken at a rest area, right before we saw a man dressed in head-to-toe hunting attire (complete with gun), trolling for deer along the freeway. We're not talking some little two-laner road either. No, I mean, he was hunting along the interstate! I wanted to take a picture, but feared he might get mad and try to shoot me. After all, I doubt the thin glass windows on Dobie's Camry would be any match for a rifle.
After we arrived, we took advantage of the buffet, performed some shows and got unlucky on the slots (think walking under a ladder while shattering a mirror sort of unlucky). An example of our misfortune:
Look where the line hit. Are you kidding me?!
Unfortunately, I didn't get any shots of Dobie and me, but I took plenty o' pictures of the Kewadin signs. Here's a couple for your viewing pleasure.
And some views of Lake Michigan from inside the casino:
It was a quick two-day trip, but it was nice to be able to catch up with Dobie, perform at new rooms and eat the crap out of the buffet's salad bar!
A shot from the drive there:
This was taken at a rest area, right before we saw a man dressed in head-to-toe hunting attire (complete with gun), trolling for deer along the freeway. We're not talking some little two-laner road either. No, I mean, he was hunting along the interstate! I wanted to take a picture, but feared he might get mad and try to shoot me. After all, I doubt the thin glass windows on Dobie's Camry would be any match for a rifle.
After we arrived, we took advantage of the buffet, performed some shows and got unlucky on the slots (think walking under a ladder while shattering a mirror sort of unlucky). An example of our misfortune:
Look where the line hit. Are you kidding me?!
Unfortunately, I didn't get any shots of Dobie and me, but I took plenty o' pictures of the Kewadin signs. Here's a couple for your viewing pleasure.
And some views of Lake Michigan from inside the casino:
It was a quick two-day trip, but it was nice to be able to catch up with Dobie, perform at new rooms and eat the crap out of the buffet's salad bar!
Monday, October 18, 2010
Thoughts on The Social Network (and social networking in general)
This was originally posted on ZoiksOnline.com (and if you're not a regular visitor over there, by golly, what are you waiting for?).
Like thousands of other movie-goers who are suckers for flicks about friends stabbing each other in the back, I saw The Social Network this weekend. I enjoyed the film very much, and I encourage you to see it if you haven't.
In addition to creating a desire in me to Google image search pictures of the real characters in the film, it also made me start thinking about life pre-Facebook (which, for some people, is a bit like thinking about life pre-electricity).
I remember the days when you had to walk three miles, uphill, barefoot in the snow to stalk somebody. You couldn't just find out someone's relationship status in an instant; you had to ask around. You had to do some homework. And finding out if your ex is married or if s/he got ugly post-break-up was way harder than just clicking your mouse three times. You actually had to spend some time in the bushes or follow them home from the grocery store to establish that.
And what about the days when we wanted to pass time at work? There were no status updates to check; we were relegated to playing solitaire or taking trips to the vending machine to relieve our heads from mundane tasks or nagging bosses. Of course, there was also always the ever-so-popular activity of looking for other jobs.
Or remember when we just took pictures to show family and friends? Now it seems we take them solely to prove to fellow Facebook users (AKA strangers) that we have an abundance of friends, get invited to parties and that we're young, fun, happenin' people. After all, nothing says "life of the party" like taking breaks from keg-stands to hop on a laptop to create online photo albums.
So what can we learn from The Social Network (other than that people who use Live Journal are not to be trusted)? I think it serves as a nice reminder about what life was like before it centered on virtual connections with people. Pre-2003, we actually had to request to be someone's friend (gasp!) in person. And if we wanted to find out what someone was interested in or information about their political beliefs, we had to (again gasp!) ask them. So for a nice trip down memory lane, why not start talking to people face-to-face again?
And if we really want to live out old times, we can always hide and stalk people in the bushes. Just be careful though as branches are scratchy and can cause way more real-life injuries than they do in FarmVille.
Like thousands of other movie-goers who are suckers for flicks about friends stabbing each other in the back, I saw The Social Network this weekend. I enjoyed the film very much, and I encourage you to see it if you haven't.
In addition to creating a desire in me to Google image search pictures of the real characters in the film, it also made me start thinking about life pre-Facebook (which, for some people, is a bit like thinking about life pre-electricity).
I remember the days when you had to walk three miles, uphill, barefoot in the snow to stalk somebody. You couldn't just find out someone's relationship status in an instant; you had to ask around. You had to do some homework. And finding out if your ex is married or if s/he got ugly post-break-up was way harder than just clicking your mouse three times. You actually had to spend some time in the bushes or follow them home from the grocery store to establish that.
And what about the days when we wanted to pass time at work? There were no status updates to check; we were relegated to playing solitaire or taking trips to the vending machine to relieve our heads from mundane tasks or nagging bosses. Of course, there was also always the ever-so-popular activity of looking for other jobs.
Or remember when we just took pictures to show family and friends? Now it seems we take them solely to prove to fellow Facebook users (AKA strangers) that we have an abundance of friends, get invited to parties and that we're young, fun, happenin' people. After all, nothing says "life of the party" like taking breaks from keg-stands to hop on a laptop to create online photo albums.
So what can we learn from The Social Network (other than that people who use Live Journal are not to be trusted)? I think it serves as a nice reminder about what life was like before it centered on virtual connections with people. Pre-2003, we actually had to request to be someone's friend (gasp!) in person. And if we wanted to find out what someone was interested in or information about their political beliefs, we had to (again gasp!) ask them. So for a nice trip down memory lane, why not start talking to people face-to-face again?
And if we really want to live out old times, we can always hide and stalk people in the bushes. Just be careful though as branches are scratchy and can cause way more real-life injuries than they do in FarmVille.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Off to Guatemala
I'm off to Guatemala for nearly a month. Since I've been asked several times, no, I'm not going there to do comedy. Although, if Guatemala turns out to be the Hollywood of Latin America, perhaps I will. First, I think I should learn the Spanish words for "comedian" and "funny." I know how to say "just kidding/I'm joking," but my ability to speak about my profession stops there.
I'm actually going there to take Spanish lessons and to experience another country. My love for travel knows no end, and I'm excited to go to a destination I haven't been before.
Also, I realized that I forgot how to conjugate verbs for the past and future tense, so I can only speak in the present. But as I was reminded yesterday, the present is a good place to be.
I look forward to posting pictures, writing about my adventures and sharing funny stories that are bound to happen as I will surely butcher the heck out of the language. But for now I'm going to relish my travels, the experience and the moment.
I'm actually going there to take Spanish lessons and to experience another country. My love for travel knows no end, and I'm excited to go to a destination I haven't been before.
Also, I realized that I forgot how to conjugate verbs for the past and future tense, so I can only speak in the present. But as I was reminded yesterday, the present is a good place to be.
I look forward to posting pictures, writing about my adventures and sharing funny stories that are bound to happen as I will surely butcher the heck out of the language. But for now I'm going to relish my travels, the experience and the moment.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Hanging with the Hurricane
I spent the week before Labor Day in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Despite a hurricane threatening to come into town, my sunglasses getting stolen by waves (Apparently, the Atlantic Ocean has an affinity for ginormous sunglasses that make her look like a sorority girl or Jackie O.) and some shows getting canceled, I had a lovely time.
Some pictures from around town:
The Outer Banks (or OBX, if you’re nasty) features New England-style homes with huge decks and elaborate stilts. If you’re a Nicholas Sparks fan (and you might not want to admit it if you are), and you’ve seen Nights in Rodanthe, well, the entire area pretty much looks like the set of the movie. It’s quite beautiful.
Ed and Leslie own the comedy club, and when you work there, you stay at their house, which features this view:
They also have two awesome dogs named Girl and Buddy.
That’s Girl, who is fixated on some Harris Teeter hummus and praying for an unfortunate accident involving it meeting certain death on the floor.
I worked with Rob Brackenridge and Chris Coccia, and Rob and I took advantage of the Jacuzzi and kayaks.
The water we kayaked in was so still and calm, and as I approached hour seven (okay, hour two) in the hot tub (pictured on the left), I realized that I could definitely get used to boating and relaxing by day and telling jokes by night.
However, Hurricane Earl had other plans.
He threatened to come in on Thursday, which prompted a mandatory evacuation for all visitors.
Every major news network was in town (and staying at the hotel where the comedy club is located) to cover the storm. Al Roker was even there!
Before our last show of the week, Rob and I concocted a plan to get on camera (After all, if you can’t be on Comedy Central, you might as well try to get on the Weather Channel as a tv credit is still a tv credit). We decided that we would both put on our best Midwestern voices (he’s originally from Wisconsin, and I can do a fairly bang-up North Dakota accent, if I do say so myself) and run behind the camera while screaming that the apocalypse is coming. We were going for something along the lines of miming pulling our hair out while saying, “You betcha we’ve never seen storms like this! Cheese-n-rice, this is even scarier than the snow in Fargo!” However, right as we were about to execute said plan, some little kids ran in front of the cameras and did the exact same thing! Those little mofos stole our thunder! Bah!
Eventually, I had to flee with the masses.
Before I left, I got to perform at two shows, which were great fun. After Tuesday’s show, one of the audience members even bought me a drink, which she promptly drank herself after proclaiming me a lightweight and telling me I didn't drink it quickly enough. That’s definitely the first time I’ve been shown up in drinking by a sixty-something-year-old. I guess I need to practice.
I’ll close this entry with a portrait of me that Rob did during the week.
I’m contemplating using it as my new headshot. What do you think?
Some pictures from around town:
The Outer Banks (or OBX, if you’re nasty) features New England-style homes with huge decks and elaborate stilts. If you’re a Nicholas Sparks fan (and you might not want to admit it if you are), and you’ve seen Nights in Rodanthe, well, the entire area pretty much looks like the set of the movie. It’s quite beautiful.
Ed and Leslie own the comedy club, and when you work there, you stay at their house, which features this view:
They also have two awesome dogs named Girl and Buddy.
That’s Girl, who is fixated on some Harris Teeter hummus and praying for an unfortunate accident involving it meeting certain death on the floor.
I worked with Rob Brackenridge and Chris Coccia, and Rob and I took advantage of the Jacuzzi and kayaks.
The water we kayaked in was so still and calm, and as I approached hour seven (okay, hour two) in the hot tub (pictured on the left), I realized that I could definitely get used to boating and relaxing by day and telling jokes by night.
However, Hurricane Earl had other plans.
He threatened to come in on Thursday, which prompted a mandatory evacuation for all visitors.
Every major news network was in town (and staying at the hotel where the comedy club is located) to cover the storm. Al Roker was even there!
Before our last show of the week, Rob and I concocted a plan to get on camera (After all, if you can’t be on Comedy Central, you might as well try to get on the Weather Channel as a tv credit is still a tv credit). We decided that we would both put on our best Midwestern voices (he’s originally from Wisconsin, and I can do a fairly bang-up North Dakota accent, if I do say so myself) and run behind the camera while screaming that the apocalypse is coming. We were going for something along the lines of miming pulling our hair out while saying, “You betcha we’ve never seen storms like this! Cheese-n-rice, this is even scarier than the snow in Fargo!” However, right as we were about to execute said plan, some little kids ran in front of the cameras and did the exact same thing! Those little mofos stole our thunder! Bah!
Eventually, I had to flee with the masses.
Before I left, I got to perform at two shows, which were great fun. After Tuesday’s show, one of the audience members even bought me a drink, which she promptly drank herself after proclaiming me a lightweight and telling me I didn't drink it quickly enough. That’s definitely the first time I’ve been shown up in drinking by a sixty-something-year-old. I guess I need to practice.
I’ll close this entry with a portrait of me that Rob did during the week.
I’m contemplating using it as my new headshot. What do you think?
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