Right now, I’m commuting between Hamburg and Berlin for jobs. Also this month, I have travelled to shows in Cologne and Chemnitz, where no trains went for several hours: It seems like the G20 vandalists and the weather are competing in who can do more harm to public transport. And I accidentally stepped into that joust! You are what you draw. And I’ve definitely been too long on trains the past week. More time on trains and platforms does have one positive effect: I have more time to do my favorite things – write stand-up, sleep and draw. If I didn’t have to get to shows and jobs on time, I would love to be stuck on trains all day and make them my studio!
Tomorrow, I’m guest speaker and guest comedian at Rednergilde Hamburg. The networking event’s topic is „future“. I’ll talk about future (in German: Zukunft) from my personal, comedic point of view. Since I found out I’m going to have a big screen with me on stage I thought I might as well use it: I prepared fun slides, hand written and illustrated. They look unique and stylish. But I gotta be careful, there is no auto correct for hand writing. Don’t wanna stand there, do stand-up, and have my name accidentally spelled wrong behind me. I did my best. And here is a little sneak preview for you:
„I was at the gym today“, I told my friend proudly. He replied „did you have a gig there?“.
Wow. Was it that out-of-the-way of me to be at a gym? Guess so. I haven’t seen the inside of a gym in years. And that one time doesn’t count, when I was just handing out flyers for my close-by comedy show. (No one came).
A few weeks ago, I ran to an open mic to get a spot. That’s when it hit me. When the only work out I get is sprinting to an open mic, there’s clearly something wrong with my fitness. And career, because I didn’t even get the spot.
I used to be athletic, though. I mean, I was on a Bundesliga team. (Granted, it was Rugby. There are so few players, when you start, you’re automatically Bundesliga. In Germany, Rugby has the same development index as Comedy. Okay, who am I kidding, I never actually played a Bundesliga match, but I saw one, from the bench, park bench). But Rugby wasn’t my only exotic sport, I also played Headis regularly. So regular, I even modeled for it (was accidentally at practice when a curious photo team showed up):
So, I need to work out again. But I would never sign up for a gym deliberately. I hate gyms. Hanging onto some work out device while I think everyone stares at me because I probably use it wrong? Is there an anxiety-gym? At the entry of any gym’s atmosphere, my motivation burns up in a split second. And it’s too cold to be running outside. And no group sport, since my ankle is broken from when I once tried high heels. And no yoga, because I always fall asleep. Yes, I have many excuses. I have more, need one? So what now?
So one day, on my way to getting my daily dose of cake, I saw a little raffle next to a bakery. I could win something. How exciting!Oh, just a personal training. You almost got me!
I participated in this raffle. It was my way of effort to work out: Now it was in their hands. Leave fitness up to fate. I did draw a big smiley on my raffle card, awkwardly waving it into the personal trainers’ faces. Heyyy pick me right. I really like winning.
Guess what. I did win. Or they did pick me, having seen my untrained body. (They probably marked my card “Winner! She needs it the most!!!”). Or they let everyone win, cuz that’s marketing right? Anyway.
Sooo, I went to my first class on Monday morning. I was out of shape and nervous. What should I wear? How close will I be standing next to the personal trainer? I took a shower before my training, applied body lotion, did my nails, even flossed. The last time I did all that, I got myself a new boyfriend.
My prize wasn’t a normal, awful gym. It was a gym where you get black, skin tight suits and electric shots (EMS)! What?! What have I gotten myself into? But the trainer calmed me down by saying “you would be the first person to pass out this week”. The first one this week? It was just Monday morning! He hooked my functional sausage-skin to the power. Bzzzzz.
Here’s what it looked like. Also, I think this is the best self-portrait I’ve ever drawn:
This electric shock work out lasts only 20 minutes. I can do that. It tickled, I didn’t go out of my way. Wasn’t even sweating. (I only took a shower afterwards because the suit smells of other people’s sweat.) I even enjoyed it (not the sweat). I must have looked like someone, who chills while being electrocuted. Back at home, I felt accomplished and had more cake.
The backlash awaited me the next day: a surprise muscle ache in places, I didn’t even know I had muscles. I will do it again. Bring it on! Turns out, EMS is not only super efficient, it’s also expensive. Looking at my fellow gym partners, I’m never sure if they’re rich or lazy. Good small talk topic for my next workout. Make Ingrid’s body great again.
Some people say “jokes are just words”. I don’t think so. Words are powerful. It’s all we have. They can lift us up, make us laugh, and destroy. Writing stand-up, and not my half finished language degree, made me appreciate words. Is this word necessary for the joke? Is there a funnier sounding one? Does this word evoke negative emotions? What does it really mean?
I often stumble upon words I find enthralling. Like enthralling. Or curmudgeon. Or flabbergasted. I write them on a special list. My Ingrid encyclopedia of odd words. And I’m adding to it almost every day. Whenever I have free time I skim through it. And when I have more time, I illustrate them.
Even though I write in English most of my favorite words are in German. English I use, but German I own. My funny bone speaks English, but my heart German. And I’m in love with compounds with odd literal meanings. Like the German word for a tender stroke: Streicheleinheit. It literally means “caress unit”. Because stroking in Germany has to be regulated!
So now here are some doodles of my Lieblingswörter, Lieblingsworte, Favorite Words: