A good friend and I have discussed taking improv classes for years. Either he bails or I do for some reason ranging from too broke to not enough time. Today he IM'd me saying he was finally signing up and he was doing it at this very second and registration was closing momentarily. So before I could think and talk myself out of it I said ok, please take all my money and sign me up as well. And then I had a panic attack. I was due for one anyway as it's a day ending in y.
You see, I don't like standing in front of people and I decidedly don't like the pressure to be funny on command. I freeze up and start talking about things like the Cuban Missile Crisis or Oprah. In other words out goes the wokka wokka and in comes the horribly unfunny girl who looks as though she will simultaneously cry and pee her pants. It didn't used to be like this, back when I was young and really stupid, but now I truly know what it's like to look like an idiot so I have The Fear. But the way I see it, I can stay in my apartment and meditate on my motherfucking sadness some more, or I can go make an ass out of myself for 8 weeks. I chose option B. I start next week which means more panicked blogging and really who doesn't like that?