Theme: We’re all using the same photo to fictionalize a backstory.
I flip through the hangers in my closet, looking for my tight-in-all-the-right-places black dress. Sure I could wear one of my ten other black dresses but I want the perfect dress for tonight. Tonight is likely the biggest night of my life. I’m going to take a million selfies and I need to look radiant in every one of them. I need to rub this in Christie Abrams smug face – her taunts that I would “die alone” would be proven wrong tonight.
Chester is going to propose. I’m going to be engaged. Before her. Continue reading
Boy, I love this city.
I have lived in San Francisco for 12 glorious years. Like most long-term relationships, there are ups and downs, but I have managed to fall more and more in love with this fine city as the years go by. It’s safe to say I’m kind of obsessed.
Like other things I’m obsessed with, I have committed many hours to researching all things “San Francisco,” mainly in the form of movies set here. One of the best movies to showcase SF is Hitchcock’s Vertigo. He elegantly captures the glamour and beauty of San Francisco in the 60s. When I watch it, my heart aches for not having known that San Francisco. Continue reading
Fey and Poehler, having a laugh about Bill Cosby.
Theme: Get it off your chest.
TRIGGER WARNING: this post is about rape and how we “handle” it
I was sitting in the writers’ room preparing for our monthly sketch show. This is where we bring in our scripts and read them aloud to see if they fit into the show for that month. At this particular writer’s meeting, there was something in the air. An unusual percentage of the sketches had rape jokes in them, or relied on rape as the punchline.
It reached a point where it needed to be addressed. The writers of these sketches had good intentions and were not trying to be funny at the expense of others. So, why didn’t these jokes work? We hashed it out and realized that most of the sketches didn’t need rape as the punchline and could be slightly edited and made stronger without any mention of rape. It opened up a really interesting dialogue between my friends and I about what makes a joke about rape work. Continue reading
Theme: The personal rituals shared between lady friends.
Written by Meg
Besides the obvious rituals my friends and I practice (animal sacrifices, throwing virgins into volcanos, and dancing around a burning pile of self-help books), what I do with my ladies is make stuff. My husband will tell you it’s a kind of illness. It’s not like I have a lot of spare time on my hands to take on new ambitious projects, but when I meet talented and creative women, I can’t help myself! Continue reading
My other family
Theme: When something changes – good or bad. A twist of events, an unexpected turn of events, a change in the wind, weather, love, whatever.
Written by Meg
We all huddled outside the backstage door waiting to be introduced. The audience was hot – exactly the group you would want for a sold out show at SFSketchFest. The host for our performance was a comedian who has opened for Margaret Cho and was regularly slaying audiences around the city. We were bouncy with energy and dying to get on stage. The host commanded the audience to, “Welcome Chinese Ballroom!” and we ran on. As I performed a scene in which my teammate and I were feeding Shamu and a manatee some french fries, I marveled at how much has changed since we started rehearsing all those years ago. Continue reading
Theme: fictionalize your first encounter with another GMGM author.
Beads of sweat dripped down my temples as I performed the most delicate part of the job. Though my heart was pounding, my hands managed to hold steady as I used my diamond-edged blade to cut a 7 inch diameter hole in the glass encasing the holy grail of music artifacts: Michael Jackson’s glove. The glove. Mystics have spoken of its power for years. The word on the street was that the person who wore the glove would inherit MJ’s moves, charisma, and his magic. I was there to find out for sure.
The hole was cut. Now there was nothing that could come between me and the moonwalk. That’s when everything went dark. No, not dark… blonde. Continue reading
Continuing with the co-authored holiday posts, Jessica and Meg tell us about what the holidays mean to them.
J: To me, holidays mean traditions. Every song makes you think of some Christmas years before. Even the smallest moment can bring back memories of shopping with your parents or driving to your grandparents’ house or sitting under the tree to stare at the twinkling lights.
M: Meanwhile to me, holidays mean change. The holidays come at that time of year where I really notice the milestones, like when my brother had facial hair for the first time (because my Dad kept asking him to shave the ass-hair off of his face), or that year we all finally admitted we didn’t believe in Santa Claus even though we still put out cookies and milk (JK, Santa is totes real, relax guys). At the end of the year, while I look forward to the year to come, I can’t help but look back and see how my family has grown. Continue reading