Arm warmers return

I left my arm warmers in Buffalo over Christmas, and I got them back in the mail last week. I wore them to work today, and my boss complimented me on them:

–They look so…

Better still

Improv class last night was much better than the previous class. We concentrated on one piece of the puzzle, finding a character. It was cool to remember that learning can be challenging and fun at the same durn time. Who knew.


Becca and I are taking a writing class that’s all about getting a good toe-hold on big, huge writing projects: screenplays, novels, etc. We decided, in a fit of self-importance and a storm of creativity, to write a play together about being age 24. So far, we know it’s about two fictional 24 year-old women with an uncanny resemblance to (surprise!) Becca and I. Our patient, dry-witted teacher thinks this can fly, but cautioned: “I’m going to push you…. to have… something.”

I know I’ll be glad I took this class when it’s over. Just like my improv class. But damn. Learning? Sometimes? Makes ya feel dumb.


Yesterday, had some really positive revelations about class. I have an inkling of what was up, and I’m feeling lots better.

Overheard by the elevator

Mona: Are you passing out —
Rabbi: I’m trying not to pass out. Every now and then I feel like passing out…
Mona: No, I mean are you passing out fliers?

Decompressing from class

They say that improv makes you barf up all the stuff that you normally would keep inside, and then look at it and play with it. That sounds gross. But basically, in a recent megaphone I described what came up during one such barf-fest. Last night, something else came up that I realize now is a pretty accurate portrayal of how I was feeling that night. Again, it came from being totally alone onstage and having to just start. I had a gun strapped to my leg, but I didn’t know how to use it. That was my little mantra for that scene. And that sort of captures how I felt last night, and about this class in general: powerless. It’s just a really hard class. I know I’ve got power hidden somewhere, but damn if I know how to — or have the guts to — wield it. Or even untape it from my damn leg.

I found a knife strapped to the other leg by the end of the scene, though. That was pretty cool.