Reality is pretty awesome sometimes.
Earlier today, I was one of the MCs of a school talent showcase called Snapshots. Here I was, on stage in front of the whole school and their families, doing something so amazingly incredible, yet something I haven't done since I was twelve. Heck, I might have done it some time in secondary school, but I don't think I've ever had the liberty of coming up with my own script.
The best thing, the very best thing, was that I managed to do a big Opening Number, like Neil Patrick Harris does for the Tony Awards. I've always wanted to do that, even back in Yale for Shenanigans, but I was doing improv then, and with so much crazy stuff going on I didn't think I could do both. Well, this time I was going to DO IT: I took a whole day finding the right song, and another whole day to write in the words.
Everything was so totally worth it.
Volunteering for this was one of the best, most awesomest decisions I've ever made, I think. One thing though: it would have been great if I had had more time to prepare. Last minute work might be fine for assignments (here's looking at you, professors), but for a show like this, you want the time to do the absolute best that you can do. Never mind the rehearsals; just having more time to choose a song and write the lyrics would have been fine by me.
I had so much fun being MC. Michelle, my co-host, was great too; I'm just worried that she might not have had as many punchlines as I did. I think that's one of the reasons why I don't like writing MC scripts for a double-act: I believe you have to write your own jokes, jokes that you are comfortable with performing.
Knowing that you have the confidence to rip off that perfect one-liner is just the start, though. Nervousness was another crazy thing I had to deal with. I've always had pre-performance jitters before I do any show; I think it helps me focus and perform better (ironically). Hardly anything else matters - not the stage, not the audience, not the fear of failing - when you've got adrenaline pumping through your veins, fueling your comedy, pumping up your passion, telling you that the whole point is that they're SUPPOSED to be laughing at you!
Too bad it's over. I miss it already, but I really really hope there will be a next time.
Taking it from the top,
The Edna Man