Casually pretending like it hasn’t been six months since my last post…
Today was the 6th day of preschool. I know this because every day, the ayudarte del dia (we’re a bilingual classroom) puts another pom-pom on the big fake gum ball machine I drew on a large piece of cardboard. We’re counting to the 100th day of school because of a reason I’m not clear on. The 100th day of school is actually sometime in February and it’s a big thing.
Let me back up.
This September I started working as a assistant in a local preschool. I get to walk to school and I spend all day playing ‘sleepy bear’ with 3 year olds. Sleepy bear is a game where you pretend to be a sleeping bear, there’s a song that goes with it too. For some reason it is like crack to the toddler set. There’s a LOT of bear imagery in books/games for children, I would say like 50 percent of our picture books involve a bear somehow. That’s insane because bears are godless killing machines and children should be afraid of them. But sure, let’s tell them stories about how all they do is drink cocoa and learn about manners.
I really love working with kids as a day job, mostly because I can wear leggings to work and come home covered in glitter. They’re also hilarious and adorable. But most importantly, I can work on crazy impressions and voices without fear of judgement. On stage, my accents pretty much range from my jappy New York accent to a slightly more nasally jappy New York accent. Last week at my improv team’s show I played Batman like “Hey guys! Like, I’m Batman. What’s up?”
“You need you to commit more,” said Improv coach/life mentor, Chris, afterwards. “Go all out, when’s the next time you’ll be able to play Batman?”
Well now I can play Batman every day in school.
Last Wednesday I went to an open mic for the first time in a few weeks with a friend. He was late so I waited at the bar.
I always feel so dorky at open mics alone. I always try to talk to people who are busy scribbling in their notebooks. Since I was 13 I’ve always felt too big in body somehow, always much bigger than my friends, always hyperaware of how large my hands are during handshakes. Open mics are one of the only places I feel small and like a little girl. Maybe it’s my headbands. Maybe it’s because I never know what to order right away and ask the bartender if they have any ciders on tap instead of just getting a Modelo like the crowd of mostly guys around me. Maybe it’s because I smile too much.
This was a bar with some games lined up against the wall, I pulled out Jenga and started making a tower. A guy sitting next to me tilted his head towards it. “Do you wanna play?” I asked. Like a five year old. He shrugged and started pulling out blocks with me. We didn’t even talk. We were just two strangers, comedians! who didn’t even know each others’ names, building a tiny tower (half the pieces were missing). New York is a strange place.
Either way, the night was good because it was bad. I didn’t prepare a lot and left the stage with three min left on my clock. It wasn’t my best but I know that it happens and I don’t beat myself up over it anymore. I stayed for my friend to support him. I took the A train home and it stopped at 168th, forcing me to walk the last 18 blocks alone at midnight, but it was so beautiful out I didn’t care. It was one of those quiet, chilly early Autumn nights where you feel a change in the air but you don’t know what it is.
I feel the winds changing and I’m not sure what it means but I know that I should keep on listening. And writing. And I sincerely hope you guys are doing well too, wherever you are.