THIS is what I've gotten myself into for the next EIGHT weeks. Tonight was my first improv class. I knew I was screwed when we played a remedial drinking game *without* alcohol and I was completely lost. Zip. Zap. Zop. is kinda like Hot Potato for the Greek system or improv wanna-bes. My knees shook as I prayed for no one to hand it to me and then I wondered why the hell isn't anyone handing it to me?
Apparently UCB Theatre is like high-brow improv (I bet they all say that). Founded 12 years ago by Amy Poehler and three other dudes, they teach "long form improv" which I think means that you create sketches or something, as opposed to the short form varieties, which take cues from the audience. Actually, I don't get it at all, but fortunately there won't be a vocab quiz. Anyway, this joint is a heady place. We were encouraged to "speak from our point of highest intelligence." Uh oh. I'm not even going to fake like I understand that. First, thanks for assuming that the intellect I do have is high or something. I'm not sure I'd be as generous. Second, if I don't know what it means, how can I speak from it?
So it's a room full of actors and people who've done this before. I had no idea. I guess I was fooled by the word BEGINNER in the class title. I felt like a kid getting picked last on the kickball team. I felt like the first day of tenth grade. I felt like the last person to find out about the party after Homecoming. You get my drift. Good news though: It ended up being fun after I kinda got past my shyness (read: fear of having nothing come out of my mouth). Stay tuned.