I admit I've been a little sluggish ever since returning from vacation. I could blame it on the weather, the economy, my insomnia, or the sore throat that has plagued me for the past week, but I'm not a fan of excuses.
Fortunately, things have started to turn around in the last few days, and I suspect part of that was participating in Mortified last night. Basically, people dig up old diary entries, short stories, and other embarrassing gems from their past and read them in public (usually a bar or comedy club). I did it once a year and a half ago and had a blast, but this time I was more reluctant to read my pieces.
I contemplated telling them I was sick (which would not have been a complete lie - I was sick earlier this week), but I pride myself on reliability, so I made myself do it again. I'm glad I did. It's hard to tell if stuff is actually funny, because this crowd will laugh at anything. Could be the booze or the bad memories of high school, but either way it's a adrenaline rush. Not to mention the fact that it's good practice should I publish a book and need to work the bookstore circuit someday.
The last time I read at Mortified, one of the producers told me that she thought my journal entry was among the most mortifying pieces of the evening (not sure if that's a complement or not). This time the other readers gave me a serious run for my money with stories of coming out of the closet, attending an 'N Sync concert (complete with choreography and singing), and a hilarious fictional account of "Indiana Skywalker and the Rectum of Doom."
There will be a podcast coming out next week, so I'll be sure to post the link and let you all my readers share my shame.
Update: here is the podcast. In its entirety. Oh, the shame... My reading starts around 33 minutes.