Awaiting the Onslaught of Laughter

It is, at this present time, 11am on a Saturday. I am, at this present time, sitting at my computer in the study with a scotch and dry, revelling in the realisation that I don’t have to ‘work’ for two weeks.

As a teacher-by-day, my 9-5 often consists of teaching students incredible things like, ‘rocking on your chair could break your face’; and, ‘bringing a pen or pencil to class can greatly enhance your chances of actually putting information into your brain‘.

It’ll be nice to spend two weeks not having to do that. The work I need to mark is by my feet. Three bags full, I’m staring at it now. It’s beckoning me. “Come on, Halley” it says. “Come and spend your first day of freedom marking us and correcting the spelling of ‘the’. I’m ignoring it.

Instead, I’m thinking about the next fourteen days. The next fourteen days that I have to be a ‘comic’. To revel in the Melbourne International Comedy Festival and all it’s highs and lows.

You see, readers, I have a show starting on Tuesday night (April 12^th) at Three Degrees in QV. I’m rather psyched about it. Unlike previous years when I’ve performed in solo shows with a lonely hour of onstage time, this year I am working on a collaborative project called, ‘The Hipster Resistance Variety Hour’. Sketches, stand-up, songs, special guests. It’s exciting not to be the only one to experience the highs and lows of a festival run.

Last night I saw Denise Scott. She broke me in for the 2011 season, and what a ride. This is a woman who has had to endure a recent ‘public furore’ (her words) in the last week over a (if I do say so myself) quite clever comment she made on the MICF Gala last week. She mentions this in her show and acknowledges, tongue in cheek, those opposed to her ‘offensive’ remarks.

Unlike previous years, when I walked into the Victoria Hotel last night I wasn’t excited. I wasn’t feeling the buzz of festival like I normally do. I wasn’t feeling the tension of seeing a comic I greatly admire. I wasn’t preparing my stomach muscles for the onslaught of laughter. My heart just wasn’t in festival. Denise was going to have a hard trot with me, I thought.

It took two minutes. Two minutes of Denise’s flawless delivery, likeable onstage persona, honesty, smile, clever quips and I was back. I’ve actually pulled a muscle in the lower right side of my back. Nice work, Scotty.

Now that I’m back on the wagon, the next fourteen days look promising.

So I find myself at 11am on a Saturday, drinking scotch whilst perusing the Comedy Festival website (www.comedyfestival.com.au) looking at what I’m going to take myself to tonight.

It’s on.