Months and months ago, six?  seven?  I'm not sure, I decided to take an Improv Comedy class.  A friend was signing up, and she mentioned that I might like to as well. 

My guts said no.  I have terrible stage fright.  Debilitating.  Performing is not for me.  Doing things and saying things in front of other people is not for me.

People who know me in real life are shocked to learn that.  Mostly because I'm so, so, boisterous?  Is that a nice word?  Like a step down from that.  Rollicky?  I'm always telling stories and jokes and yammering on and on about nothing in particular.  I'm funny.  Outspoken.  Quick.  Friendly.  Open.

Not shy, that's for sure.  But shy is different than having a strong stage presence.

Doing things all by myself while standing on the same floor as you is one thing.  Rising above ground level and working with others?  Barf.

But it's time to get over that.  So my mouth said "yes", against my lurching guts' better judgment.  I made a promise to myself to get through the first three levels of class.  To not quit.  To get on stage for the class show at the end of the third level and prove to myself that getting on stage isn't going to kill me.  Nor probably make me puke or pee or poop on myself.

And from there?  Who knows.  Maybe start teaching a night class at the Community College?  Moonlighting as a Parenting Facilitator, like the ones I knock around during the nine to five?  Start doing trainings and conferences with the other big guns here at Ye Olde Jobbe?  Try out for a bit part in the local theater?  Something?  Nothing?  Who cares?  At least I'd beat one of my two raging phobias (I've gotten a manageable grip on the severed heads thing, sort of).

Something happened in the first few classes of Level 3.  I felt a little disappointed that my friends weren't there to see me.  I was proud of and amused by what I was doing, and I knew they would be too.  I was upset that they couldn't be a part of this.
So, I signed up for the comedy team auditions.  Those were held on Sunday.
It was my first time ever on a stage.  Mandatory Elementary School Plays excluded.
Have you ever been on stage?  It's hot on stage.  There are places where you can easily fall off stage.  The lights are blinding.
But I knew most of the people out in the seats anyway so blocking them wasn't an issue.
Philly Improv is a nice close community, so even if you don't exactly know someone, you know of them.
And this morning I woke up to a call back in my inbox.
Of course since I'm a maladjusted headcase I immediately felt like it was someone doing me a favor. But so what if it was?  Maybe it wasn't.  Even if it was a tiny bit of one?  I know it was a well deserved one.

If I don't make this second cut?  So what!  I made it On A Stage.
And I didn't pee or puke or poop on myself.
I won my game in the first inning, it had nothing to do with call backs or teams or how well I performed.  Those are all gravy.  Perks.  Surplus.  Superfluous.  Fringe.  Sparkles.  Shiny.  Lagniappe.  Oh, hello!  There's your Big Word of the Day.
I did what I set out to do, and when I got up on that stage it wasn't even a bit bad because doing improv is so much fun that it doesn't even matter where I'm doing it anymore.
A half hour of improv?  Yes please.  In the basement of the Adrienne or the side room at the Bride or on stage at the Actor's Center, it's all the same.

I have to pay to go to class.  Boo.  An audition is a half hour that I don't have to pay for.  Yea!
The call back is two hours in a theater that I've spent forty hours doing improv in.  How can I be nervous about that?  Some of my friends got call backs for the same team and I'm glad they'll be there to add to the normalcy factor of the whole thing.  Technically we'll be competing, but I don't feel that way. 

I wondered if I would feel competitive at the audition.  And I didn't.  Not one bit.  Weird, right?  I get competitive about who gets to push the elevator buttons on the way to a meeting and who spits first when Jake and I brush our teeth together at night.  And when I found out that people got call backs that I didn't, I was happy for them.  And people who didn't get them, I was bummed that they wouldn't be there with me.  It's all in good fun like that.  It's who fits where at what time and with who and for what.

I've never seen anyone be truly bad at improv.  Uncomfortable, yes.  Distasteful, disrespectful, discombobulated, disoriented, displaced, sure. 

If I don't make it (and let's face it, I'm less than a year at this gig) I plan on taking a few workshops over the summer and actually getting out to see some shows.  I was hoping to do the Storytelling class, but there is just no way in hell my wallet nor my calendar is opening up for that one this month.  Maybe next time around.  And then next time auditions come up, I'll try again to see if there is an opening somewhere I do fit in.

Because if there's one thing I know about me, I certainly don't fit in everywhere but I can always find somewhere I do.