beatriceeagle: (Grappling Hook)
I have joined CMU's improv club! It's called No Parking Players (no, no one knows why) and it's really awesome. It's like summer camp, only some of the people are actually good at improv, and they always teach you how to get better.

I've actually been going for a month or so now (two meetings a week, in my copious spare time) and it's been really awesome. I'm terrible at improv, is the thing. I freeze way too easily. I can do games like Questions, which are about wordplay, but having to create a scene--a funny scene--out of nothing is almost impossible for me. See, I think too much. (Or, as one of the officers says, I'm "a cerebral player.") Part of it is that the comedy I tend towards is very dry and sarcastic, which is not conducive to improv, but a lot of it is getting stuck wondering what I should do next.

The funny thing is, when I stop wondering so much, I sometimes make a scene that really works.

So I've been working on not overthinking. And I'm getting better, a little bit. I can put aside the constant worry sometimes. I can look for situations in which I can react, instead of creating something out of nothing. And sometimes, when I say the first thing that pops into my's actually funny.

Of course, there's a metaphor in there somewhere. But don't think about it too hard. *g*
beatriceeagle: (facepalm)
So, about two hours ago, I decided to try out a banana bread that I got from my host mother in Costa Rica. (Yeah, I'm aware it's two am. My sleep schedule's screwed.)

Now, this was a family recipe, and I was working with slightly different ingredients (North American bananas just aren't Costa Rican bananas) so I was prepared for a few hiccups, but I'm actually generally all right at baking. So an hour and a half ago, I pop the bread into the oven at the temperature Marta gave me: 175 degrees.

Now, to be fair, I did stop and think, "Hey, that's kind of low." But it had been in her family for at least two generations! I'd seen it in action! Clearly, the temperature couldn't be a mistake.

An hour and a half later, it's still not baked through. I must be doing something wrong. So I go online to check out other banana bread recipes, and...

Oh. Fuck. Celcius. 175 degrees Celcius.

Needless to say, the oven has been turned up. I'll report on the eventual banana bread tomorrow.

(Also! I got a phone call today from my friend Maria Fernanda from Costa Rica! Not only can I somehow still speak Spanish, I can speak Spanish over a very shaky cell phone connection. And also...I'd been missing her and everyone else, so it was really good to talk to her.)

UPDATE: The bread is...not quite the consistency I was looking for, but actually not bad. I'll have to try it again on the right temperature.


beatriceeagle: (Default)

July 2011

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