I have a dog now

I want a dog. For so many reasons. I love them. As a freelancer, I need a reason to go outside. And it’s more fun writing jokes at home with a dog audience sitting next to me. Also, my rent is so high and needs to be worthwhile, I want someone constantly inhabiting my flat, if person, dog or burglar.

I have a foster dog now. It’s basically like probation. You have them for a try out period. And at the end you have the option to purchase or leave them at a highway restaurant. I wrote down my first thoughts about my new doggo experiences and also jotted some dog illustrations:

 

dog illustrations
I wished we’d know what dogs think…

 

Her race is called „Chinese Crested Powder Puff“, which sounds a bit like a far eastern fitness drink. How do I explain it… have you heard of the contest „the ugliest dog in the world“? Yup, it’s that one. They win every year. They’re like Russian figure skaters gold medalists. It’s not fair, they win every time. They’re just too ugly.

My dog has substantially more hair though, that covers up the contest winning face. When I got her, she didn’t have hair, she had dreadlocks. She didn’t live with a hippy but neglect. So I went to the dog salon. What a goofy place. There was so much hair flying around, enough to equip the next three Gucci collections with fur. At first, I didn’t see the hairdresser, until she appeared underneath the hair like a camouflage soldier.

„Just take away all the unhealthy hair. It doesn’t have to look good“, is what I said to her. Yeah and then two hours later I saw the dog. Having several thoughts on my mind. Maybe I should have told her to leave one dread lock, just one, for coolness. Do animals know they’re ugly? And lastly, where is the next ugliest dog contest, I might have a winner.

 

dog illustrations
just another unrealistic beauty standard

 

I walked the dog back home. One guy said „geez, does she have cancer?“. Yes it’s a cancer dog. Fresh from dog chemotherapy. Additionally, she’s a fearful dog. She’s scared of everything. Like those people that can’t watch scary movies and end up screaming at everything.

My dog is terrified of cars, bikes and air. Strangers look at her all shaky saying „awwww“. And then give me the look like I’m an animal abuser. That’s my sign to yell out „rescue dog, I saved her, worship me ok thanks.“ How one powerful sentence can make people believe you’re not an animal abuser but a saint! I see myself saying that everyday now, with or without dog.

 

dog illustrations

 

So will I keep her? Not sure. I looked at so many dogs now. At the animal shelter, all dogs are either old, sick or on a cruiseship. But you know what I liked about the shelter? They don’t do false advertising! On the cages they have clearly written signs: „Bobby bites“, „Tyson humps everyone“, „Molly limps and will cause substantial cost and you’ll probably go bust“. There it is black and white. And it’s true. I get there, I get bitten. And I can’t complain about it.

The dogs don’t even try to show themselves from a good side. I thought: I’m their savior, holding the one rose that will determine their fate. And suddenly, the kennel is quiet. Bobby goes „I don’t bite. Never have. Never will. I don’t even bite my food. I just lick it. Lick, lick, look!“ Tyson claims he’s asexual, woof. And Molly jumps around „everything okay, I’m in topform. Ouch ouch, just kidding. Pick me pick me.“ It’s like dating, you lie until you’re a couple and can’t be abandoned at a highway restaurant.

To be continued…

 

 

*(I feel silly saying this, but some of this is satire. Just making sure. Okay bye)

Traindrawings

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!

 

self-portrait as businessman
#manspreading #womanspreading #assholes

 

Forth place was “most sick”.

 

The real reason to do yoga is to be able to squat over the train toilet and not touch nor fall.

 

Being on trains also gives me time to digitalize my hand drawn cartoons, like this one.

 

the raw material

 

 

 

 

Guest Comedian at Rednergilde

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:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A trip to the Gym

„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):

That one time I was athletic and a camera 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?

 

Am I doing this right? Why is everyone looking? Help. (c) Ingrid Wenzel

 

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:

EMS: Elektromyostimulationstraining or Egon M. Schiele? (c) Ingrid Wenzel

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.