Improv hours (performing, coaching, studying, watching): 486

Movies: 47 (Avatar, Taken, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, Twilight, The Book of Eli, Role Models, The Tailor of Panama, Why We Laugh, Temple Grandin, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, An Education, Outrage, The Crazies, Pierrot le fou, Afghan Star, Transsiberian, Blue Steel, Alice in Wonderland, Greenberg, Hot Tub Time Machine, Shutter Island, The Ghost Writer, Kick-Ass, Fighter, The Blind Side, Edgeplay: A Film About The Runaways, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, You’re Gonna Miss Me, Gogol Bordello: Non-Stop, Exit Through the Gift Shop, F for Fake, The Secret in Their Eyes, Law Abiding Citizen, Metropolis, The Girlfriend Experience, Iron Man II, Splice, Micmacs, Toy Story 3, Visioneers, Cyrus, 49 Up, Solitary Man, Zombieland, Inception, The Invention of Lying, Despicable Me)

Books: 11 (Gulliver’s Travels, Appointment in Samarra, Laughter in the Dark, Ada or Ardor, Tales of the City, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Love and Hydrogen: New and Selected Stories, The Time of Our Singing, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, The Wild Things, The Bedwetter)

Long walks (1 hour +): 31

Web presence (active): Facebook, Tumblr, IRC Improv Wiki

Web presence (neglected): Twitter, MySpace, Flickr, Youtube, FriendFeed

Semi-recent self-portrait:

Older self-portraits:

World: It’s increasingly looking like I’m going to be around for a while. As a result, I’m going to have to take you by storm, and/or flip you on your ear.

Fair warning.

]]> http://www.morganphillips.com/archives/889/feed 11 http://www.morganphillips.com/archives/860 http://www.morganphillips.com/archives/860#comments Fri, 14 Aug 2009 17:51:36 +0000 Morgan http://www.morganphillips.com/?p=860 I’ve been doing improv comedy for 15 years now, and I’m still deeply in love with it. Been meaning to write a heartfelt essay about that. Maybe I’ll get around to it soon. In the meantime here is my battle plan for this weekend, the 11th annual Del Close Marathon of improv. Published for the semi-edification of future generations (and current stalkers).

(For those keeping score: six hours of improv class and twenty improv shows, bookended by a movie and a concert.)

ANGELIKA
Fri 3:10pm Paper Heart

HUDSON GUILD
Fri 6:30pm Monkeydick
Fri 7:00pm Mantziggle(?)

URBAN STAGES (Alternate)
Fri 6:45pm Bastian

TRIPLE CROWN BASEMENT
Fri 8:00pm The Belmonts

MAGNET
Fri 10:00pm Made-Up Musical

[Get "one" drink, go home and sleep.]

SIMPLE STUDIOS
Sat 11:00am “Power Improv Scenes” w/ Mark Sutton
Sat 2:00pm “Power Improv Characters” w/Joe Bill

[Go home, sleep.]

HUDSON GUILD
Sun 12:30am Super CageMatch

URBAN STAGES
Sun 1:45am Panama
Sun 2:15am West Village Brunch
Sun 2:45am WUCB – Live Radio in the dark
Sun 3:00am Uncle Moe’s
Sun 3:15am Convoy
Sun 3:30am Leslie, Lennon and Molly: Redux
Sun 3:45am C,C&C Improv Factory
Sun 4:00am Outlook Of The Poet
Sun 4:15am Hot Sauce
Sun 4:30am Five Dudes
Sun 4:45am Improvisosos Peligrosos
Sun 5:00am Blind Harold
Sun 5:15 Stir the Sauce
Sun 5:30am Can I Talk To You For A Second?

[Go home, sleep.]

HAFT AUDITORIUM
Sun 8pm ASSSSCAT 3000

SPIKE HILL
Sun 10pm Thin Skin Jonny

I took a few pictures, such as this one at Sainte-Chapelle…

And this one at the Pere Lachaise cemetery…

I also made a little youtube video out of the flip cam footage I shot of my post-sunset cruise of the Seine, on the last night of my trip…

I would like to return to Paris as soon as possible. Preferably as a rich person, and/or with a lady friend. If you are a lonely rich lady who would like a Paris companion, shoot me an e-mail or something. Let’s make it happen.

Here’s a list of what I’m most excited about:

A confession: I’m slightly frightened. This is the first time I’ll be truly on my own in a foreign country. My (semi-fluent) sister will be meeting up with me eventually, but for the first few days I will be entirely by myself, with no phone and limited internet access, and a vocabulary of approximately 100 random French words.

I’m generally super-brave (ask anybody), so it’s kind of fun to feel intimidated by something; to plunge into the somewhat-unknown.

Bring it, France.

It all sprang from a conversation I had with Beverly, my girlfriend. At dinner one night she suddenly blurted out, “You know, I don’t actually exist. I’m something you made up for a blog post.” I was confused for a moment, but then it occurred to me what she probably meant.

“Are you saying that it seems like I’m more interested in experience for the sake of narrative subject matter, rather than experience for the sake of experience? That I should start living life, instead of just… taking notes on it?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m saying that I literally don’t exist. I’m not a real person. You’re alone, sitting in front of your computer, in a pit-stained tee shirt and ill-fitting underwear, eating a Dominos Chicken Bacon Ranch Oven Baked Sandwich and quietly weeping.”

He was in the 7th or 8th grade, and significantly larger than me. The routine went like this: The school day would end, I’d go to the bike rack to retrieve my Schwinn Stingray, the bully would push me to the ground, I’d completely ignore him, and then I’d ride home.

I’m proud of my eleven year-old self for intuiting that a lack of reaction would frustrate the bully. I was too intimidated to fight back, and I didn’t want to go the “look at the little baby go running to the teachers” route.

Unfortunately, my strategy was flawed. All the bully wanted was to see me cry, and he was willing to continue the attacks for as long as it took. I can say this with confidence, because after several months (two weeks), I finally broke down and started sobbing. He never bothered me again.

If I could do it all over again, I’d politely ask him to stop. Then, when he refused, I’d hit him in the side of the head with my Kryptonite bike lock over and over again until he died.

Not that I’m still carrying around any negative feelings about it, or anything.

Thanks for reminding me, Facebook!

I’ll be in the audience. After much hemming and hawing over the expense, I managed to find a $404 (including taxes and fees!) round trip ticket on Continental that broke the back of the Camel of Indecision. As they say.

I haven’t been to Paris since high school, when I visited with the Paris ‘92 club. We did fundraisers for two or three years, then jetted off to the City O’ Lights to lose our collective innocence.

My memories of that trip are foggy, but lovely. Here are three:

-Resisting the advances of an “artist” who followed me around in the Pere Lachaise cemetery. He wanted me to accompany him back to his apartment, where he would “sketch” me. Bizarre and funny enough to not be scary, even as an 18 year-old on his first trip to a foreign land.

-Walking from one end of the city to another with a torn and incomplete map, alone, late at night, boldly breaking my school group’s curfew and buddy rule, because of a situation involving a transit strike and a young lady who’d needed to be walked home.

-Being asked for directions by American tourists on the Metro, and answering with a cartoonish French accent.

I’ve braced myself for things being less romantic and exciting now, since I’m no longer a wide-eyed teenager. However: it’s Paris. I’ll be able to rustle up a little excitement, I should think.

Any hot (cheap) tips for my Paris to-do list would be greatly appreciated. Along with (double cheap) hotel recommendations.

I have officially become old: I couldn’t figure out how to work the infernal gadget (Samsung’s “Rant”) without consulting the instruction manual.

In my defense, not including the main keypad or the magical slide-out QWERTY keyboard, there are 16 buttons.  Which is a lot.

This is the phone:

And this is an image of its owner, captured using the phone then uploaded via included USB cable (fancy!):

“Rant” is an odd choice of name for a piece of technology.  Anyone doing a web search for “samsung rant” or “sprint rant” is probably not going to get a result that Samsung or Sprint would be happy about.

Speaking of which, I’ve come to accept that Sprint is a terrible, evil company, and that they will try to screw me over at every turn.  Therefore it was not a surprise when I logged on to their website this evening and saw that I’d been signed up for a more expensive plan than the one I agreed to in the store.

I tried switching to Verizon at one point, but their signature mob of “Can You Hear Me Now?” fellows was apparently afraid of my basement.

To have to beg our parents for rent money (again) unless we get a job soon.

1. NIGHTTIME SECURITY GUARD

The kind in movies and TV shows who don’t have to do anything except sit at a desk and watch a bank of monitors.  Except they don’t actually watch the monitors, they read a book or take a nap.  So that the hero can sneak past and steal the top secret computer chip.  Or whatever.

2. LIFE COACH

I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure a life coach is just a person who declares themself a life coach, then gets paid for dispensing advice like, “Do what you love,” and, “Set goals and follow through.”  I could do that.  (If anyone reading this is a life coach, and this pisses them off, what better way to prove me wrong than to give me some free, helpful advice?  That’ll teach me!)

3. KEPT MAN

I would have no problem relying on the wealth of a rich girlfriend or wife, as long as they had no problem with it.  I’m modern like that.  Any decrease in self-respect would hopefully be offset by the lack of bills.  And the fine chocolates.

4. JUNK MAN

Find interesting junk, then sell the interesting junk out of a cheap storefront in a strip mall = recipe for happiness and success.

5. GAME SHOW HOST (OBSCURE CABLE CHANNEL)

I’m all about playful banter.  Maybe on the OTB channel, giving the lucky winners day passes to Belmont Park.

6. CAR WASH MASCOT

This list is getting depressing.

7. PAINT-YOUR-OWN-POTTERY-STORE WORKER

I enjoy painting my own pottery.  For about an hour.  So maybe I’d enjoy helping other people paint their own pottery.  Every day.  Over and over again.

8. BOUNTY HUNTER

I’m not that into the whole “tracking down fugitives” thing, but I would get myself really cool business cards.  So there’s that.

9. SUBWAY TRAIN CONDUCTOR

There’s a certain inner child golly-gee factor to this job.  Which must be why the conductors always look so happy when they poke their heads out to yell at people, and why they always sound so contented on the loudspeakers.

10. OFFICE TEMP (WITH STEADY, SOMEWHAT FLEXIBLE, DECENT-PAYING WORK)

Dare to dream.