My friends and I are in the paper!

When I began attending Improv Bootcamp on Monday nights at the Staircase Theatre, I had no idea that it would bring me fame and notoriety so quickly. My first show is a distant fleck on a possible horizon.   And yet my name, along with friends Columbia and Rebecca, is mentioned in the Spectator this morning:

http://www.thespec.com/news/local/article/690503--the-mothers-and-fathers-of-improv-invention

The article, by Jeff Mahoney, is all about "the Mothers of Improv". Jeff talked to the three of us for all of five seconds, during which Becca came up with an awesome quote. Despite the short time he talked to us, you can tell he gets it, the draw of improv, the fun of it, the magic of the Staircase Theatre. For those of you who get the Spectator (or will get it knowing I'm in there), the article is on A4.  My picture is in the print version, but not the online version.

I don't know if the idea of improv "appeared in a balloon over our heads", as Jeff puts it.  It would be more accurate to say that I wanted to try it, and I dragged my friends along. I like Jeff's version better. In any case, all three of us fell in love with it.

One of my favourite characters to play is very much like my daughter, cute to the point of being obnoxious. I've thrown tantrums to rival my son's.  It's all very therapeutic. I always thought that I'd be a good mother, because I'm silly and fun-loving, but it's hard to be that way while in mom mode.  I can't let loose when I have to be the one to say "don't hit, don't throw, don't jump," and sometimes, believe it or not, "don't laugh." At improv I can be myself and, at the same time, I never have to be myself.

My favourite line (other than Becca's quote):
"Hugh MacLeod, originator of The Staircase, can’t quite explain the influx [of improv Moms], especially in recent months, but it makes for a lively dynamic, especially as the other demographic bulge in local improv is young men." No Hugh, I can't imagine why a group of stay-at-home Moms would want to spend the evening playing pretend with young men, especially when so many of them are so adorable.

In other news I gave birth to Hugh MacLeod, originator of The Staircase, on Monday night during an improv scene.  It was his idea.

I've found my new Monday Night Activity.

Improv!

I discovered a five-dollar drop-in improv class at the Staircase Theatre in Hamilton.  Yesterday I was browsing online, looking for classes that I might want to ask for for my birthday.  That's when I saw the drop-in boot camp.  Monday night, I read, (Hey, it's Monday today).  Five dollars (Hey, I have five dollars in my wallet right now!) I've always wanted to take an improv class (by "always" I mean that I once thought about it for five seconds).  I mentioned the class to my friend Columbia and she enthusiastically agreed to come with me.

Holy Spock, we had so much fun!

There were twelve people in the class (I know because the teacher, Devlin, counted us).  There was an equal mix of men and women and I was neither the oldest nor the youngest, in fact I was right in the middle (I know because we lined up by age at one point.)

My favourite game (I won't bore you by describing the whole class) was "Emotional Symphony".  Four people on stage were each given a word and an emotion. They would then have to say the word in the emotion they were given whenever the conductor pointed to them.  The conductor could raise her arm to make the person emote more, or lower it to make them emote less.  Conducting is WAY more fun than it should have been.  SUCH POWER!

The sketches were my other favourite.  I got to throw a temper tantrum, sing a song, scream at the top of my lungs and pretend to have an orgasm.  I was often paired with Columbia, which is great because we work well together. At one point we were doing a sketch exercise with two guys.  The floor was divided into three sections, each with a designated emotion: depression, lust, and hate. The teacher had to stop the scene; the boys had forgotten to emote hate, because they were too busy watching Columbia and I in the lust section.  Hilarious!

There were two classes and we had so much fun we stayed for the second one too. I don't know if I've found a new career as a sketch comic, but it is definitely a great way to loosen up and get out of Mom mode for an evening.

The long bike home

Today I was meeting my friend Columbia at the Aldershot drop-in (the plaza next to Ikea, for those of you who know where that is) and I got the bright idea that I could bike there as part of my new healthy lifestyle.  According to Google, that meant a journey of 7.1 kilometres.  On the way there, I barely broke a sweat (although I did sweat a little because it's friggin' HOT). 

Everyone at the Early Years was pretty impressed that I had used my own womanly powers to get there, especially since they had cancelled the park program because of a heat advisory.  I was feeling pretty proud of myself.  Of course, I had only completely the downhill portion of the journey, but I had crossed enough construction sites and highway on-ramps that I was already thinking this was probably a bad idea.

After some arm-twisting I convinced Columbia to come with me to see a movie, which meant a nice long break in my 7.1-kilometre, uphill journey home.  We walked to the theatre (Columbia didn't have a bike with her) and both agreed that it was probably too hot for walking to be a good idea.  We saw Toy Story 3, which I've seen before, but which was more enticing (and at a better time) than Cats & Dogs: the Revenge of Kitty Galore.  Since it was afternoon on a Wednesday, we pretty much had the entire theatre to ourselves.

Afterwards I left Columbia and biked up the side of a mountain, otherwise known as Brant Street.   Brant Street is a never-ending sidewalk.  There are a couple places a dip in the hill creates the illusion that there may be downhill ahead, but this is a cruel trick of the eye.  Sweaty and exhausted, I stopped at the bank to cash a cheque and soak in their air conditioning.  The kindly bank teller filled up my water bottle (because the water I had tasted like a bath).  Thanks bank-teller Jeff!

I was pretty close to my Mom's house by this point so I travelled up the worstest uphill sidewalk in the history of mankind to Cavendish.  My parents weren't home.  I considered using my spare key to partake in free air conditioning, but the kids were asleep by this point and I was not motivated to make any attempt to manoeuvre the stroller into the house.  Instead, I hung out on my parents front lawn, enjoying the exquisite bliss that comes with not moving at all.   

The way home from Mom's is down hill so once I got back on the bike, I enjoyed a fun slide down Cavendish, my speed limited only by my nerve.

William stayed asleep when I transferred him from the stroller to bed, but Jadzia did not.  Since my daughter looked about as sweaty and uncomfortable as I felt, we took a shower together.  Now I feel squeaky clean (but she, unfortunately, is already covered in marker again).

Girls' Day Out!

Today William went off with Daddy to watch drag racing and go camping, so Jadzia and I had a girl's day out.  I put out the APB on facebook that I was looking for a fun girl's playdate, and two of my Mommy friends responded; Zoe's Mom, Columbia, and Leyla's Mom, Cara.  Zoe and Leyla are older than Jadzia, but since she thinks she's three that wasn't a problem.

Our recent aquisition of Summer Bronte Creek Passes made it the agreed upon favourite place to hang out. We planned to see the old Victorian farm house, but it was closed. We did, however, enjoy some pigs and peacocks nearby.  The male peacock even spread his tail feathers for us and did a little mating dance.

After snacks it was off to the play barn (which meant driving to another section of the park). On our way to the parking lot, another Bronte visitor let us pet her dog, much to Jadzia's delight.  "Buster" loved the attention and didn't want to leave all the friendly preschoolers. Nor did Jadzia want to leave the dog.

Eventually we made it to the Nature Centre near the play barn (which is hardly ever open when I go).  Jadzia was delighted to watch the bees in the beehive, but backed away when I held out a cuddly stuffed larva for her to hug.

Next more pigs, goats, chickens, and finally the play barn. If I'd brought William, he would have been all over the upper level of the play barn, running, sliding, and jumping.  The girls, on the other hand, seemed content to hang out with Jadzia on the slower kiddie slide. I can imagine William being jealous when he sees the pictures of his sister hanging out with his girlfriends.

By this time it was past lunch time, so we all went out to an Indian buffet restaurant for lunch.  Some of the dishes were a bit too spicy, but they had lamb so I was a fan. Among other things, Jadzia scarfed down like five little dessert cakes (I don't know what they're called but they are like TimBits drenched in syrup). 

I had a wonderful time.  And Jadzia did too, as evidenced by her screaming as soon as she was alone in her carseat.  But the tears were short lived, and she soon fell asleep. She's been dozing long enough now for me to have a shower and write this blog entry.  Huzzah! 

Events

William put himself to bed all by himself! My naptime routine is to put Jadzia down first. This usually involves nursing her while I listen intently for the sounds of toddler mischief. Suddenly the house went quiet, too quiet. I went searching for William, expecting to find that yet another piece of furniture had fallen victim to crayon graffiti (although at this point it would just match the rest of the decor). I called his name and got no answer. I even checked the locks on the doors thinking he may have somehow escaped. Finally I checked his bedroom and there he was, sound asleep. Bonus!

Today is my Dad's birthday. Happy Birthday Dad! Dad is currently working as a school bus driver, which is pretty cool, because now I can understand exactly what he does for a living (although I'm sure he'd prefer his old IT jobs).

It's also my nephew's birthday. Happy Birthday Hunter! He's turning eight years old. Eight! Am I old enough to have an eight-year-old nephew? I mean, that's halfway to driving age!

Also a shout out to my friend Columbia. Yes, it is also her birthday. (This makes me wonder what happens nine months before May 7th that gets people in the mood to make babies). Anyway I know the last time I talked to her she was feeling bummed about turning 32. So I open this up to any elderly or middle age folk who want to comment on how great it would be to be that young again. Happy Birthday Columbia!

And finally, today is the opening of Star Trek XI (which is really just called Star Trek, because it is in no way a sequel to anything). I'm seeing it at 9:45, instead of 7, so that I can still have dinner and eat cake with the family. Then I'm totally going to wear my Star Trek uniform and be super nerdy. I love it!