well....

I was out of breath when I first grabbed the mic, and I sort of remember this as being the first thing that threw me off. My first few jokes got great responses, especially from my 9 friends who had dominated the first row :)  At this point everything is sort of fuzzy, I remember that I messed up the order of some things I wanted to say, usually no big deal when I'm in the zone, but I guess the main problem with this performance was that I was not in the zone.  Epictetus would say that because I had placed a value on the reaction of the audience, I allowed the possibility for their lack of reaction to throw off my confidence.  Luckily I got through it, more like a true amateur than a pro, and even had some classic impromptu moments with the audience, like when I declared "hey everyone, look over there" and then very obviously glanced at my set list. That probably got one of my best laughs all night; that, and my impression of how I would seduce clients through a giant window if I worked in the Red Light District :-D  I'm noticing that my physical movements are starting to get some of my best responses--as my friend  Holly said, "Jes, you really know your angles."

I went 5th out of 6 (and was the only non-dutch speaking and the only woman).  Looking back now I realize that one of my biggest mistakes was totally forgetting to address the random drag performance, which I had planned to say "Man, you guys should have seen the look on 5 Dutch comedians faces when Chris walked into the bathroom back stage and 15 minutes later Ginger emerged. What? No one else brought a drag queen? I never travel without one."  Tragic I forgot this, I know.

After the last comedian, everyone went from the theatre to the bar (this competition took place at a college campus in Den Bosch, it was actually a class project: a group of really great guys had to put on an event this semester. You can look at some stuff on the site, spotonevents.nl). On the way over to the bar, the 17 year old beat-boxing emcee who I really bonded with told me that we were in the Dutch equivalent of "the boonies", and that my liberal humor wasn't likely to go over as well as it did in Amsterdam. Whoops.  I was the only comedian who didn't talk about poop.  This is not my excuse tho, because I know if I could go back in time, I could still make my material funny if I was more in the zone.

One by one the two judges went down the line to give their critiques (all in Dutch except me). I was terrified at first, but what they said to me was truly wonderful: (I paraphrase) Jes, your energy on stage is incredible, and you have an amazing ability to improvise and play with your audience. Your entrance grabbed our attention, but then we felt that the content of your material stayed on the surface. We want to know more about Jes and her experience in the Netherlands, and we can't believe that you didn't even mention Bush once. We see so much potential in you, but expected much more from you in this performance." 

Damn.  IF I COULD JUST GO BACK IN TIME!!!! I would show them, THIS IS WHO I AM! In a split second a whole new set flashed before my eyes, and it was funny and witty and charming and very very Dutch.  I really thought I would get one of the wild cards, especially because of the whole "potential" thing, but I didn't.  However, I did email those wonderful guys to thank them for the opportunity, and told them to notify me if something freakish happens and a spot opens up :)

The reason I still feel great (although VERY disappointed) is a few things: first and foremost, the support of 9 friends who bought train tickets and entry tickets and took time out of their day to sit in the front row and laugh no matter what, well, that performance, no matter that it wasn't my best, is for THEM. they are wonderful and I am the luckiest comedian I know that has as many fans as I have friends; second, I have no fear anymore. NONE. I can't explain it, it's just gone. I was on such a roll so far in my amateur career that I didn't even realize that I was avoiding failure, which is impossible. That unconscious avoidance was holding me back. And now I failed and I feel amazing. I wouldn't think twice to perform anywhere now, even if I knew the crowd wouldn't like me, and that's something that every comedian has to get over somehow, and it's finally happened for me. Steve Martin began his career by bombing, and I think it's something that he therefore conquered early on; but as for me, I've been so lucky because I've always performed in places where I was already confident that the crowd would enjoy my performance.  Lastly, I'm super proud of myself, even though I'm too embarassed to watch the last half of the video, which I'm sure is not really has bad as it is in my head. The truth of the matter is that, when I take a step back, I can't believe that I'm the type of girl who would get on a stage in a room full of people who speak english as a second language and attempt to make them laugh (ESPECIALLY the Dutch, who seem to be sitting back with a cigarette and a smug look and saying "Make me laugh, damnit").  I don't even know what makes me do it, it's something else, something I want to call my "Me-Not Me" because on the one hand I am the most myself when I'm performing, and on the other hand it's this part of me that I just surrender to and it does all the real work--IT has the bravery and the confidence, and I'm just lucky to know it is there for me.

Before my friends and I left the campus, a cute blonde hippie Dutch boy approched me and with a really fantasic enthusiasm said, "Hey, I just wanted to tell you that my friends and I saw you perform at the Comedy Cafe in Amsterdam and thought you were just fucking hilarious!"

Me: "Wow! THANKS!"

Boy: "Ya! So...what happened tonight?"

Ha. I know.  Cue the sitcom *WAA Waa waaaaa* sound.  Dutch boy then told me that he worked for Toomler, the most prestigous comedy spot in Amsterdam.  He said it was much more my style because they are known for more caberet-comedy, something artistic with meaning and story-like.  As we were getting on the train back to Utrecht, 3 boys came running down the escalator and we held the train for them. It was that Dutch boy, who was there supporting his friend Mark, the guy who ended up winning the round that night.  Mark and I, coincidently, performed together the same night in Amsterdam.  Mark, now on a high from winning, was more gentlemanly with me than usual for (male) comedians, and said that he had to admit that my set in Amsterdam was really great.  Turns out that he has an official spot at Toomler, and took my number so that I can fill in for him whenever he can't make it!  Also, he wants to get me in on a Wednesday, which is open mic night.

Above is a picture of Mark and I on the train home. I think we look like a couple, he thinks he looks like my (retarded) little brother.  We are currently flirting via text message, and yes he did ask me out, but I quickly accused him of trying to ruin my lesbian image, and he admitted it.  We'll see how it goes. I hate falling for comedians because usually they are assholes that I can't help liking just because they make me laugh.  Most of all I just want to hang out with him and his friends and get some Dutch perspective on my sets.  For example, he explained to me AFTER on the train ride home that no one understand my thing about "public displays of affection" because this term doesn't exist in Dutch.  Anyway, Mark is currently interviewing me for a journalism class project; he lives in Amsterdam but goes to school here in Utrecht so I should be seeing him more. Time is running out and now that I have no fear, I want to perform as much as possible.

This was a long entry. Thanks for reading it. I love you all.