The Philadelphia Improv Festival was especially awesome for me.
You see, I’ve been doing improv since high school, but I have been doing it “seriously” since college. So, that is effectively eight years of improvisation. Eight years. Eight years of doing an art form that has changed my life, my outlook - the way I see the world. (Yes, I’m that hippie about it). The moral of the story is, I’ve done a countless number of shows, created a countless number of characters and yet there has always been one major thing missing. My parents.
How my parents managed to never see me perform improvisation is beyond me. But on the tenth day of November in the year of our Lord, 2007, at the Philadelphia Improv Festival, my parents saw me do improv for the first time.
You’d think that an old fart like me wouldn’t need, seek or be swayed by her parents approval, attendance or lack there of. But as I stepped up to announce our group, I could hear them cheering and I got a little choked up. It felt ruuuuuuhllll (real) good to see them out there, to have them support me.
All in all the night was lovely night. I think my being hopped up on DayQuil helped curb my nerves and on top of that, we managed to do one of our better shows. I also managed to survive a series of mild-strokes I had on stage - a result of trying not to swear (and do anything that would cause my mom to cry).
Yay family!
2 comments:
woah. that's truly impressive, I am so glad they finally saw one of your shows.
Although I hate to admit it, but I like you best when the scene you're in involves like, being covered in monkey feces while you scream obscenities and abort your own baby. or something.
Hey remember when you were a clit that was so big you blocked out the sun?
Good times, good times.
Love you!
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